#//my arrow keys wouldn’t work and apparently if you click into and out of the oneshot window it counts that as confirming

[awkwardspontaneity]

We Jumped off a Waterfall

Part 6 of Memories of You

BOTW Link x GN!Sheikah!Reader

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Summary: Fighting monsters in search of an important treasure leads to realizations and some embarrassment

regular= present   italic= memory

It was a bright and sunny day in Faron. It would have been the perfect day to relax or maybe take Epona for a ride to the springs. Unfortunately even the warmth of the sun couldn’t improve the day, only highlighting the shadow of the largest Hinox Link had ever seen. And it was right on his tail. Or, more accurately, Epona's tail. Link urged Epone faster with his knees, nocking two bomb arrows on Revali’s bow. Directing Epona to curve her path around the Hinox, he loosed the arrows directly at the beast's giant eye. The hinox fell to the ground with a thunderous roar, its arms coming up to hold its eye. Familiar with their routine, Epona raced towards the wailing creature. Link readied himself with his feet on Epona’s saddle and, when she curved in front of the Hinox, he threw himself into the air. Flipping, Link slashed through the Hinox’s gut, landing in front of it as it exploded in a cloud of dark dust. 

Link was starting to feel like a glorified errand boy with all the tasks he kept being given. He loved to help people, he really did. Still… Robbie could have at least warned him about the three Hinox’s guarding the shrine he had to find. 

Using stasis on the metallic ball, Link and Epona rode up the hill to the hidden shrine for the third time. It was a short trip and the moment the ball hit its place, the ground began shaking. Robbie had informed him that the item he was searching for would be hidden at the end of the shrine trial. The Sheikah had placed it there during Link’s hundred year's rest when the Yiga clan had begun attacking in hopes of finding it. The shrine and its hidden treasure were tucked beneath the earth for safekeeping. 

Until now.

------

It turned out that the trial of the shrine was getting the orbs from the Hinox brothers. Link had been quick to collect Robbie’s treasure, some kind of guardian power source that seemed familiar to Link, and a spirit orb from the monk. Once he stepped off the shrine platform Link mounted Epone and began his trip back to the stables. He didn’t get much farther than the area the largest Hinox had been when he heard the rushing water. He supposed he had been too focused on the battles to pay much attention to nature around him. It was nice.

Apparently Epona felt the same as him, because as she trotted to the bottom of the hill she headed to the pond at the bottom of the waterfall. They spent a few moments taking in the beauty of the waterfall, the soft crash soothing as it brought forth memories of his first time at this waterfall.

Link stood panting in ankle deep water. He would have been irritated with the water that would no doubt soak its way through his boots had it not been for the intense battle taking place. Y/n was currently running towards him, closely followed by a giant Hinox. 

Robbie had sent them in search of an important treasure his teacher had hidden away in the area. Unfortunately his teacher’s notes had failed to mention the trio of Hinox’s guarding the location. Thoroughly underprepared, the two champions were pressed to take on one Hinox each while dodging the thirds reaching fists. They had managed to find a rhythm of tricking them into hitting each other then rushing the third. The plan worked fairly well, especially with Y/n loosing bomb arrows into their eyes frequently enough to keep them at bay.

Link had finished off the second while Y/n distracted the largest one. Now they would take it down together. It was no doubt low on health after so much slashing, all they had to do was find an opening for the finishing blows. And Link had just found his opening. He rushed out in front of the Hinox, passing Y/n and sliding through the wet grass between the beast's legs. Popping up behind it, Link slashed its legs as hard as he could. 

With a roar, the Hinox turned towards Link only to fall  to its knees as they gave out beneath it. From behind the wounded creature, Y/n shot up using its shoulders as a springboard. Twisting in the air, Y/n loosed two quick volleys of bomb arrows, each one sticking to its chest. Y/n landed with a roll, shooting one more volley before they grabbed Link by the hand.

They raced into the swirling water and, with a shock, Link realized right towards the waterfall. Even this small waterfall still required jumping from a large enough height and falling. Link tugged on their wrist, urging them to stop and find another way. He didn’t care if he had to shield them himself so long as it meant they wouldn’t have to face their fears again.

“With how many bomb arrows I shot into that beast, it’s gonna be a big blast. We have to get out of range.”

They sounded so confident. They were always confident in their plans even when their body betrayed them. Even now, the tremble in their jaw paired with how tightly they were holding his hand. 

Y/n was afraid. 

The duo reached the edge and Link squeezed Y/n’s hand. He would be by their side no matter what they faced. 

They would never be alone.

They jumped over the edge right as the Hinox lit up in an explosion of malice and guts. As they fell towards the water below Y/n pulled Link closer. They hit the water with a crash. Link popped up from beneath the waterfall, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes. He let out a breathless laugh, sliding his eyes over to Y/n. “We did it Y/n.”

“Y/n?” Where were they? He splashed around frantically trying to see below the rippled water. They hadn’t come up yet. He had let go and now he had lost them. “Y/N!”

The water bubbled next to him and suddenly Y/n popped up. “Link I fou- oh!?”

Link grabbed Y/n as tightly as he could, pulling them into himself. Whatever it was didn’t matter to him. Y/n was safe. “Thank Hylia you’re alright. You didn’t come up, I thought…”

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to let go of your hand.” Y/n wrapped themselves closer to him, their fingers running through his wet hair. “But, I came up beneath the waterfall and found a treasure chest. Might be what we’re looking for.”

Link hummed softly, leaning into their touch. If it didn’t feel so good to have them combing his hair so softly Link would’ve been embarrassed by the soft snort that escaped them. Y/n brought their other hand up to rest lightly on his face and he opened his eyes. This time he did blush. The way Y/n looked at him, the reflection of the water making their eyes glitter like rubies. He reached op, linking their fingers together. Y/n smiled lightly, their face leaning ever so slightly forward.

Splash!

Both champions shot away from each other, scrambling for their weapons. They were met with the sight of their horses standing in the water. Link sheathed his sword with a sigh. He was about to turn to Y/n when his face burned up. Had that really happened? There was a light splash as Y/n dunked their whole head under the surface. Link took the moment to pat his own cheeks with the cool water. Part of him cursed their horses for their timing.

Y/n popped up from the water facing the waterfall. “We should go see if that’s the right chest.”

“Right.”

With a quick dive, the duo found the chest sitting on a single rock behind the waterfall. Link was the first to approach, reaching out to grab hold of the lid. He gave it a firm shake, then another. And then a third to be sure.

“It’s locked.”

“What!?” Y/n reached out giving the chest a shake. When it didn’t budge they groaned.

Link took over, finding a sharp rock and trying to pry it open as he grumbled. “You’d think Robbie would mention their being a key. Or I don’t know. Maybe give us one?”

“Oh!” Y/n snapped their fingers. “I know what to do!”

What Link was not expecting was for them to pull the stick from their hair. It was a thin needle with a red bead strung to the end of it. Y/n always used it to hold back their hair just like the rest of the Sheikah warriors. Strands of wet hair fell around their face. Their brow furrowed as they carefully stuck the needle into the lock. Link was barely watching what they were doing, far too distracted by the way they looked with their hair down.

An audible click echoed in the small cave as Y/n successfully picked the lock. They gave a laugh in victory as they grabbed the glowing power source from the chest. Y/n turned to look at him again only for their breath to catch in their throat at the way he was staring “What?”

“You’re beautiful”

A squeak escaped Y/n as Link choked on his breath. Had he really said that out loud!? “Uh, you’re really beautiful too! Ah wait, I meant handsome? Oh shoot.”

He laughed. Really laughed as Y/n stumbled over their words. They gave a sheepish grin. Both champions laughed, letting loose after how busy they had been. Even if it meant embarrassing themselves, it was nice to be able to let loose and laugh.

“We should get dried off before we catch a cold.” Link nudged Y/n, floating closer to the waterfall with a smirk. “I’ll race you to the horses!”

And he dove under the waterfall. 

“What!?”

Y/n dove quickly, racing after their partner. “That’s not fair! You are such a cheater!”

“You’re just too slow!” 

"That's my line!" The champions laughed. Once they could stand they raced through the water, pushing and splashing as they ran.

#botw x reader #botw link x reader #link x reader #breath of the wild link x reader #breath of the wild x reader #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda link x reader #awkwardspontaneity

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione), Part Four

Well, here’s part four for you! It’s really just part three continued, but since I didn’t want the previous part to be 7k words or so long, I split it up. The total wordcount is 12.4k words now!!

Thank you very much to those of you who’ve commented and sent me lovely owls on here to let me know you’re enjoying it! (this is a sideblog for me, so I don’t respond to comments on posts, but I do answer asks as Cashmere).

I know a lot of folks (me included) don’t like starting to read WIPs that are unfinished, so thanks to those of you who have hopped on now. Consider yourselves honoured beta readers! It’ll go up on AO3 when it’s all posted on here and completed.

No real warnings for this one, just some discussion of their past relationships (for both Hermione and Draco) before the plot thickens and things warm up a bit in part five. Not sure when that’ll go up - it kind of depends on how much feedback I get on this one I guess! Comments and reblogs feed an author’s muse after all.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

___

At her wry smile and tiny shrug, Malfoy laughed, apparently reassured. “A little,” he repeated softly to himself under his breath.  

After a heartbeat she shot him a sidelong look and added, “You’ve changed so much, Draco. I can hardly believe it, but it’s clear as day.”

He did a little double take at the sound of his name on her lips, and then he smiled. It was such a tiny, fragile melting of his expression that she nearly missed it.  

“I mean it,” she said, tightening her fingers on his steel-cable forearm for a fraction of a second. “I don’t know if it was the war or your marriage, or becoming a father, or something else entirely, but… you’re not the same person you were back at Hogwarts. Not at all.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he hissed. “I had a hell of a lot of growing up to do. I think I did ninety percent of it in the space of sixth year. But Astoria helped steady me after… after Hogwarts and all the bollocks and bullshit of the aftermath of… of… you know.”

“‘Bollocks and bullshit’ is a mighty casual way to say ‘a short stay in Azkaban and three years of house arrest’, Malfoy. That’s got to change a person, for sure.”  

He shrugged. “I’m just glad it’s all in the past now. For the most part, anyway.” The silence that followed spoke volumes of the baggage that they were all still hauling around with them, of one kind or another.  

They wound their way across the park’s pathways with no particular direction in mind. As the glittering waters of the Serpentine drew into view in the deepening dusk, she murmured, “I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me too,” he said, voice little more than a low rumble above the sussurating wind in the trees. “Theo seemed on fine form, and it was nice to see Pans again. It’s been a few months. Longbottom looks good too,” he added as an afterthought. “He grew into himself, didn’t he?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Never would have called his and Pansy’s relationship though. I thought she went for the bad boys like you and Blaise…”

Malfoy snorted. “I’m a ‘bad boy’ now, am I? That’s an interesting spin on my past.”

“Maybe not so much ‘bad boy’ now as ‘grumpy reclusive Mr. Rochester’. How about that?”

“He one of your Muggle heroes?” he asked without sting.  

“Yeah. He’s Jane Eyre’s leading male. A bad-tempered rich man who has a big house in the middle of nowhere and a secret deranged wife in the attic.”

“Well, I hit three out of the four criteria…” he said and Hermione’s heart lurched as she remembered he wasn’t a bachelor but a widower.  

“Shit, Draco, I’m sorry,” she said. “That was thoughtless of me.”

He shook his head, the silver hair of his forelock tossing about as he chuckled, an entirely unfamiliar sound which she decided she wanted to hear again almost immediately. “It’s fine, Granger. You haven’t got a malicious bone in your body. Besides, it was a long time ago.”  

They came naturally to a halt in front of the man-made lake and stared out at the lapping water for a time before she uncoupled her grip from his arm and shucked her coat back on.  

That done, she drew in a deep breath and paused, leaning her forearms on the back of a cast-iron bench overlooking a flock of huddled, plastic pedalo boats moored up offshore. Malfoy remained a pace behind her, back straight as an arrow, his hands tucked into his pockets now that she was no longer hanging onto him.  

A fair few Muggles were out and about, some walking lazily as she and Draco had been, others pounding along the pavement on their evening run, and a good number were walking dogs. The sheer mundanity of it all struck her deeply for a moment and her breath caught in her throat.  

“Granger?” he asked in a soft voice.  

She straightened and turned to look back at him over her shoulder. “I was just thinking how close we came to losing all of this… Sometimes it seems like a million years ago, and others…”

“Like yesterday,” he finished a beat later. His eyes glittered in the half-light, pale lashes ghostly and ethereal, and in the dark, his pupils were wide and black and inviting.  

“Let’s keep going, hmm?” she chirped.  

In fact, he walked her all the way back to her rather modest apartment in Muggle London. “You didn’t want to live closer to work at the bookshop?” he asked as she fumbled for her very ordinary, Muggle keys with half-frozen fingers.  

Giving up, she murmured a quick ‘alohomora’ and pressed her hand to the extra ward she had placed on it. “I’ve lived here since I moved out of the house with Ron. Never seen any point in looking for something bigger or whatever. It’s cosy, and it’s just me anyway. You want to come in? I’ll have to tweak the wards if you do.”

“I… I don’t want to be a bother,” he said, his expression pinching.  

“No bother. It’s a three minute job, if that.”  

He looked torn, teetering on the edge of a refusal, but as she swept her curls back out of her face and blinked up at him, he seemed to waver, and finally he nodded. “Alright. Yes please.”

“Stay put. I’ll be right back,” she said, and left the door open so that he wouldn’t feel like a stray dog shut out in the cold.  

After setting her bag and coat down on a sofa in the main living room, she stood and centred herself, reaching for the wards with her magic. They thrummed reassuringly as she wove a slightly different pattern into them, allowing Draco Malfoy to come and go, and then she released the magic once again.  

“Ok!” she called to him and he stepped tentatively inside, shutting the door with a polite click behind him and levering off his fancy dragonhide Oxfords at the doormat.  

There was something so intimately sweet about seeing him pad across the fake-wooden lino of her living room floor in his dark socks that she couldn’t help grinning.  

“Those are some powerful wards you’ve got up,” he commented as he blinked curiously around the room.  

“Hangover from the Ministry days, I suppose. Plus this is technically a Muggle building, so I can’t have anyone noticing anything strange. There’s another witch here, up on the seventh floor, but we don’t see each other often. You want something to drink? I’ve got tea or coffee, and a small selection of wine, though nothing nearly as nice as what Theo has on tap…”

He smiled. “A tea would be lovely.”

She ducked out into the tiny galley kitchen and lost herself in the simple task of filling and boiling the Muggle kettle. She turned to find Malfoy leaning his shoulder against the door frame, hands cupped under opposite elbows, watching her with that owl-like intensity again.  

“Muggle kitchen,” she grinned almost sheepishly. “Magic is great for a lot of things, but some routines just can’t be beaten.” Ron had always hated and mistrusted things like electric kettles and refrigerators, not quite fully understanding the way it grounded her in her Muggle upbringing.  

“I’m not judging you,” he said, voice low and slightly hoarse. “I’m just interested. Do you mind?”

“No,” she said, fishing in the cupboard for her selection of teabags. She held the cardboard box open for him to select one and her eyebrows rose when he chose a delicate mint and chamomile one, but she offered no comment. “I can give you a masterclass in using Muggle kitchens if you like.”

His lips pulled back into a broad, dazzling smile and he laughed. “Go on then.”

“Fridge,” she said, opening it and showing him. “Keeps things cold; powered by electricity. Freezer, keeps things, well, frozen…” She continued her tour while the tea steeped, and by the time she was done, the tea was ready and they made their way back out into the humble living room, with a second-hand sofa and a battered old coffee table with more ringed coffee-stains on than visible surface.  

Her stomach rumbled and he raised an eyebrow at her.  

“I didn’t get a chance to eat anything yet, other than nibbles at Theo’s,” she cringed.

“Don’t let me stop you having something for supper then,” he said.  

“I’m not going to scoff a freezer dinner on my own while you sit there and watch me,” she blurted, laughing. “Unless you want to join me? I’ve got a couple of pizzas in the freezer. Nothing fancy, but they’ll be ready in twenty minutes or so if I put the oven on now.”

Malfoy looked like he’d missed something somewhere but was too embarrassed to ask, so he just said, “Pizza? Sure. The last time I had pizza was when I took Scorpius to Rome.”

“Well,” she said, setting her mug down on the table and heading into the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she called, “I can guaranteed these won’t be nearly as good as those were, but they’re pretty tasty. I think they’re both chicken and pesto - is that alright?”

“Perfectly.”

Oven on, she returned and folded herself into the squashy armchair which sat at right angles to the sofa, tucking one leg up beneath her and drawing the other foot up beside her. Malfoy, of course, sat like he was about to take tea with the Queen, while she felt like a pretzel on a shelf. A comfy pretzel though, she thought as she reached for her mug.  

“I’m glad we walked back,” she said after a moment. “I can’t believe I worked myself up into such a tizzy over Ron like that. It’s so childish…”

Malfoy sipped his tea and then cradled it between his long, pale fingers for a moment. “What happened between you two? I thought you three were —”

“— the ‘Golden Trio’?” she purred, voice laden with sarcasm.  

He made a conciliatory gesture with his head but said nothing more.  

She sighed. “We were. I mean, Harry and I are still super close - I’m James’ godmother after all. Ginny’s the sister I never had, but something went wrong with Ron somewhere along the line.” She knew exactly what the final blow had been, but there had been a myriad other issues on both sides before that. “I think… I think he felt like he never had a real niche, you know? He was always second fiddle to Harry in the heroics and quidditch departments, and, well, everyone knows I was the brains of the trio,” she said self-effacingly. “That’s not to say that he’s stupid — he’s not.”  

Malfoy scoffed at that, and for a moment she saw the petulant, petty little thirteen year old he had once been. A deeply sceptical look filled his eyes, and he looked like he was physically biting his tongue to keep himself from disagreeing with her.  

“No, really,” she scowled. “He just makes stupid, split-second decisions without thinking anything through. I’m not defending what he did or how he behaved at the end of our marriage, but…” she sighed heavily and drank a mouthful of too-hot tea that scalded her throat on its way down. “He’s in a pretty good place now with Lavender. We just… rub each other up the wrong way, even now I think.”

“Theo said he was being an arsehole earlier,” Malfoy pushed.  

She shrugged. “A bit. I think he carries a lot of bitterness towards…” she gestured vaguely in Malfoy’s direction, “… Slytherins? I’m not really sure. Stupid house prejudices that a lot of witches and wizards clearly never get over. As if one moment in our history defines us for the rest of our lives, or as if we’re limited to the characteristics of the house we were sorted into at the age of eleven… It’s just so fucking dumb, Malfoy!”

He laughed softly at that.  

“What? You don’t agree?”

“No, I absolutely agree with you. I was enjoying hearing you swear, that’s all. Forgive me.”

She flushed and looked away, anger leaving her as swiftly as it had come. “Ron has a lot of insecurities, and a few of them centre around me, but… I guess I just wasn’t enough for him in the end.”

“How could you possibly be ‘not enough’ for someone, Granger?” Draco asked in a hoarse whisper. “And you were the bloody Minister for Magic for Merlin’s sake…! What more did he want from his witch? Morgana herself reincarnated?”

She laughed long and loud at that, and Malfoy seemed to relax a little in the wake of his little outburst. “My reign was very short though,” she said as she stood and took the opportunity to put the pizzas in the oven. When she returned, she asked carefully, “What about you and Astoria?”  

“What about us?” he asked, voice even and steady, though his eyes swirled softly like Trelawney’s crystal balls, hiding their secrets behind a shifting sheen of silver.  

“Were you happy?”

Malfoy’s eyes slid away from her to stare unseeing at a point across the room, and he sat back against the sofa cushions, still nursing his cheap, Tesco mug between his hands.

“Yes,” he said eventually. “For the most part we were. It wasn’t… earth-shattering or anything, but it was pretty good, all things considered. It was arranged by our families, you know?”

She nodded.

“I knew Astoria’s older sister, Daphne, far better than I knew her, but Daph promised to an Austrian count already. He’s actually very nice. I’m glad for her.”

“I vaguely remember Daphne from school, but I didn’t have many classes with her as we got older.”

“I’d met Astoria a few times before it was all formally arranged, but even then, we only met a total of perhaps five or six times before the wedding proper. It wasn’t the huge event my mother had always dreamed of throwing for me, but with my father in Azkaban and me under house arrest, the mood wasn’t really there, you know?”  

Hermione did some quick maths and realised he must have been only nineteen or so when he’d been married, and her eyes widened. She’d only been twenty-two when Ron and she had tied the knot, but still, that struck her as very young. Scorpius hadn’t been born straight away though, and there had been vicious gossip about blood-curse-related infertility until the little mandrake had arrived. Hermione been about to make the leap to Minister at the incredibly tender age of twenty five when the attack on the Manor had taken place, and Scorpius had been mere months old at the time.

“Toria and I grew to know each other better,” Draco went on, “And in time, I think we came to love each other, in our own way. She certainly adored Scorpius before the blood curse took her.”

“What was she like?” Hermione asked in a whisper.  

Again, Malfoy sighed and closed his eyes with his head tipped back to rest against the sofa cushions. “Quiet, intelligent, articulate, easy-going most of the time, but when she got passionate about something, she could be pretty stubborn. Scorpius inherited a lot of that from her.”

“He looks like you though,” she said. “I mean… almost exactly like you did at that age. It gave me quite the turn when I saw the two of you on Platform 9 3/4 you know?”

He smirked and cracked an eye open. “Tell me about it,” he said. “Mother is always calling him ‘Draco’ instead of ‘Scorpius’. It drives him nuts.”

They shared a laugh at that. “Your mother lives with you at the Manor then?”

“Yes and no,” he said, shuffling a little and getting comfy again, relaxing his torso more casually against the arm of the sofa at last. “She moved out of the main manor when Toria and I married. Now she lives at what we affectionately call the Dower House. Officially it’s called Nightshade Cottage.”

“Ominous name,” she said and he smiled again.  

“Apt though. There’s a rambling, stone-walled potion-garden round the back of it, full of all sorts of interesting plants, and a stunning rose garden at the front. It’s really beautiful in spring, and rather potent in summer.”

“You make it sound almost welcoming,” she said without thinking and he huffed a dry laugh.  

“Parts of the estate really are lovely, Granger; its sordid past notwithstanding.”

When the beeper went on the timer, Malfoy jumped and looked confused, but she laughed and showed him. She did use her wand to cut up the pizzas though, and by the time they were seated back on the sofas with plates in their lap, they resumed their easy talk as if they’d never been interrupted. Watching Malfoy in his fancy clothes and eating pizza with his hands was almost too much for Hermione to bear, but if she focused on his voice too much instead, she found herself mesmerised on that front too. Who’d have thought that Hermione Granger would have found herself growing more and more attracted to Draco Malfoy all these years later.  

Long after they’d finished eating, they spoke a little more of Scorpius, and how Malfoy guessed he was getting on after his first week at school. “Of course, he hasn’t written to me yet, but I’m hoping he might pen something this weekend…”

“You worry about him, don’t you?”

“Constantly,” he snorted. “One of the burdens of being a father, I suppose.”

“Of being a good one,” she amended, and she didn’t miss the way he swallowed thickly and blinked his glassy eyes rapidly a few times.  

Then he sighed expansively and then levered himself to his feet. “It’s late, Granger, and I should probably be going. I’ve got a meeting to get to early tomorrow morning in Scotland, and I still have a bit of paperwork to do tonight.”

“But it’s the weekend, Malfoy,” she said as she rose too. “You can’t have to work, surely?”

He nodded and shrugged, but made his way to the door and slid his feet back into his shoes without further comment or explanation.  

A little, fluttering, doxy-wing cloud of nerves shimmered to life in her chest as they stood face to face at the door. Malfoy swallowed again and hitched a tiny, lopsided smile. “Thanks for tonight, Granger. And…” he faltered and shook his head. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Thank you.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you,” she said. “You got me out of my funk and walked me safely home.” She ran her fingers through her mass of curls and didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to watch the movement before he blinked and turned away to open the door, clearing his throat.  

With his fingers still on the handle, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. “My pleasure, Granger. Sincerely.”

Hermione barely managed to offer him a watery smile before he was striding off down the corridor.  

She lingered in the doorway long after his footsteps had faded down the stairwell — apparently using the Muggle lift alone had proved too daunting for him. After she locked the door and recharged the wards behind her, she picked up his empty plate and mug to put them in the dishwasher.  

As she passed the dresser that had once belonged to her mother, she caught sight of a moving photograph of Crookshanks. The half-kneazel was staring at the flat’s front door with his yellow, lamp-like eyes wide. “What do you think of him now, huh Crooks?” she asked the photo. “Bit different, eh?”

Photo-Crookshanks purred and circled in the bottom corner of the frame a few times, bottle-brush tail twitching, before returning to his fireplace and curling up with a look of contentment on his face. God, she missed that cat.  

“Yeah. I think I like him too, Crooks,” she said. “Merlin help me, but I think I like him too.”

.

Part Five

___

I’ve only written all 12,410 words of this because people told me they liked it, otherwise it’d have stayed on whatever the first chapter was, so if you want more, let me know with a reblog! Feel free to send me an anonymous owl too if you’re more comfortable doing that.

Anyway, take care, and more soon, I hope. I’ve got a fair chunk plotted out, and it should take us up to Christmas in the storyline (it’s September now for them).

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #dramione fic #older dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #draco x hermione #draco x hermione fic

[asterekmess]

S3A-E6

Oh boy, here we go, Motel California is just full of absolute bullshit. *sigh* let’s get started then.

Read More’s are good for the environment (or so i’ve heard)

Before we start, I wanna let you guys know that I’m just not gonna comment on the Jennifer/Derek scenes. I just. I really honestly cannot do it. I don’t care. No. Also as this is well, this episode, please be advised that there will be extensive suicide mentions.

Thoughts:

I know this is random as hell, but that truck looks like mine. Oh, and look at the date, it’s only like nine years older than mine. nice.

why does it look like he’s nursing an arrow wound on his leg? Is it just me? That doesn’t look like a claw mark.

Can...can I just point out (god, i already need the tag) that....that they’re drawing a DIRECT parallel between this ARGENT HUNTER and Scott with the whole “lifting up the shirt to reveal the bite on their side’ thing? Like, it’s a perfect replica of when scott does it in the first episode. And they don’t do that with the others. Jackson’s bite was just Visible when he got out of the water and we never see Isaac, and Erica’s bites. Boyd’s was a whole sitting down thing on the Zamboni with his hoodie. They didn’t even do the same thing with Victoria ARGENT’s bite. OH and he’s wearing the heirloom necklace from season 1.

Wait, hold up. So, he just got bitten that night, but he’s already gonna shift? What? The bite works that fast?

....he’s from MA? Why tf is he in california? Also, he’s 27 apparently, oof.

Finstock...honey...you ran out of keys when you have like 6 students behind you still.

why is Finstock paying for Allison and Lydia’s room as well? He’s just that nice, or did he honestly forget they aren’t on the track team?

Maybe it’s just the Sterek shipper in me talking, but someone wanna explain why the fuck Stiles would put Derek on the suspect list for HUMAN SACRIFICES? Let alone TWICE? He literally just helped Derek get his pack back and has been working with them the whole time? Why???Would??He???Suspect???DEREK??? OR his sister???

I totally forgot that Scott promised Stiles he would watch Star Wars after they got back to Beacon Hills. SCOTT YOU ASSHOLE COME ON.

yeouch. You’re putting a huge damper on my Stydia brotp here Stiles. jeez.

*Movie trailer voice* He’s a hunter whose family has been torn apart by a human/werewolf war, who refuses to give up the fight against a species his clan has persecuted for centuries. He does weird detective work that makes no sense and looks like a Dark Souls ghost repeat of someone’s death. He insists on ‘staying out of things’ but then follows people around getting mad when things go wrong. Coming this summer, Chris Argent must actually learn.....to get off his ass and help.

WHY DO THEY ALL DO THE CLAW THING??? Yes, they are obviously claw marks. Why the fuck do you need to put your fingers on it?

Honestly, it makes me so sad because STiles is trying okay? Like, Boyd was pissed that Stiles acted like his friend when they never hung out, and STiles is trying to do the chill smalltalk thing, trying to point out things they have in common. He’s trying to MAKE FRIENDS and Boyd is just....uh...possessed? And still getting candy?? Huh?

Honestly, I’d do the same thing Stiles. Get that candy.

Allison, why’d you get in the shower if Lydia wasn’t back with the towels yet? How’re you planning on getting to them? You expect Lydia to come into the bathroom while you’re showering to put one there? #allydia confirmed.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? I ALWAYS FORGET THIS HAPPENED. WHAT THE FUCK?

Okay, okay, look at that adaptation we got going on here. Remember, okay, the last time Allison was harassed sexually (which, holy shit I can’t believe this has happened twice) it was by Jackson, who was possessed by Matt. So when Scott gets super fucking creepy, instead of freaking out, her FIRST instinct is to check if he’s still himself, if he’s okay. She jumps to ‘possessed’ and tries to take care of him WHILE SHE”S NAKED IN THE SHOWER AND BEING CREEPED ON. Which, while absolutely horrendously terrifying, is also an interesting character growth. We get to see how Allison responds to the same situation, but a season later.

Really not a fan of the weird-ass focus they put on this woman’s stoma ( think that’s the word) like...are you seriously trying to make that a part of the ‘horror’ aspect of this episode? For real? what is wrong with you?

So I did the research, and actually, hotels aren’t required to tell anyone about deaths in their rooms. But they also renovate the entire room basically to clean that kind of thing up. Replacing walls and anything that can absorb liquid and even electronics. Oh, the things I google for this research. *sigh*

So, she says “since opening.” So...why does it even matter that an Argent was here? ALSO...why does the wolfsbane whistle matter? Clearly the whistle wasn’t the cause of the last howevermany (apparently 40) years of deaths, so why would it be the cause of these ones?? They gave like fifty different answers to the question of why the wolves (and only the wolves) tried to kill themselves and none of them make sense?

Hey, so...what the fuck even is this possession thing going on? What is it actually doing to these wolves? Why are they getting affected at different times? or did they all get affected at the same time, and the scene with Ethan and Danny is supposed to have been happening at the same time as the bit with Scott and Stiles? Is it supposed to like, make them more impulsive, or just drive them to do what they want to do? Boyd wants some candy, and he will get some candy. Isaac wants to watch tv so he just sits there and clicks through static endlessly. Scott wants to......fuck Allison?

Honestly? Good dad moment here. Chris. Good Dad Moment. I just, feel so bad for Allison. That when it comes down to it, she will always end up lying to her family to save Scott’s ass. Either when they’re dating and her dad wants to kill him for it, or when Scott shows up in her bathroom and grabs her and she can’t possibly tell her dad about it without Scott getting shot.

WHY do they treat that moment like it’s a big shocker that Allison was there? She TOLD her dad she would be going to help them. This shouldn’t be a surprise to him???

....wait how was allison on the phone with her dad, fully dressed and outside, but now she’s in her bra and drying her hair in the bathroom? TIMELINES. TW doesn’t HAVE them.

OKay, so Lydia says it’s only been 40 years, which would mean that the motel was only 6 years old when Alexander Argent died in it. Plus...Lydia literally says that approx. 4 deaths a year is a reasonable number? So...either this place has a lot of suicides, or it doesn’t. WHich one? Also, just because you have the warning at the beginning of the episode doesn’t mean you need to go into such callous detail about the different kinds of suicides that took place. God, that’s so tasteless.

As horrific as this moment is, I feel like I should point out that the behavior/conversation that Lydia hears...it’s nothing like what happened with the wolves. They’re talking about it, clearly nervous. But the wolves are stoic and silent. What? WHAT IS THIS PLOTLINE? IS THE MOTEL causing these suicides somehow, or are the werewolves poisoned by wolfsbane?? THESE ARE TWO DIFFERENT PLOTS. WHICH ONE IS IT?

god, I just..I can’t not point out the contrast here! Lydia is saying she heard two people die in a room across the hall, and after leading Allison there they find an empty room going through renovation. All she has to say is “they were here” and Allison believes her. No hesitation. Stiles’ childhood best friend literally shows up dead and Scott refused to believe a word he said about human sacrifice until Deaton confirmed it. Yet Lydia and Allison have known each other less than a year, and Scott and Stiles are supposed to have been friends for ages.

I just...I hate fisheye lenses. they don’t give me any horror vibes at all, they just look stupid. Personal preference.

Boyd, honey, those things are supposed to have bags in them so they can be reused.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS SCENE? WHAT THE FUCK? WHY WOULD THEY EVER BRING THIS UP JUST TO KILL BOYD OFF LATER? WHY?

Lydia is actually very correct, remember what I said about the renovating?

God, this episode has so much...just horrible shit. I’m gonna fucking ignore it for my own sanity and just focus on how wolfy it is that Isaac wouldn’t want to sleep under the covers at a hotel because it would probably smell. Plus, bare feets. Also, why’d he go to bed so early? Did Boyd go get the ice for him, since he’s sweating so much?

I love that they are roommates.

Okay, I don’t understand. Three more suicides are about to happen. Boyd, Ethan, and I guesss...Scott? So what the fuck was up with Isaac? I just...they’re supposed to like. give into their their worst thoughts or something? Boyd’s guilt about his sister. Ethan’s....something. Scott’s...uh...self-hatred? Or, I think it’s more his lack of self-confidence? He doesn’t hate himself, he just doesn’t think he can keep going. And Isaac’s ingrained guilt of doing the wrong thing? His fear of being useless...I guess? So is it supposed to make them suicidal and Isaac’s a weird case, or does it only do that sometimes, and the rest of the time it just leaves you paralyzed with fear? This makes literally no sense.

Where has Stiles been this entire time?

Uh...that’s not how Alphas work? Just because Derek died, it wouldn’t make Scott an Alpha. Scott didn’t kill him. Even if Derek Was dead, it would’ve been from impact or from the wounds Ennis gave him. In no universe would Scott become an alpha. If it was the impact, Cora would become Alpha, as the next blood relation. If it was Ennis, the Hale Alpha spark would be gone/soaked up by Ennis.

Okay...so, Stiles was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and he didn’t hear Scott talking to the phone?

*snort* Stiles has a Nokia phone. How much do you wanna bet his dad bought that for him after the Pool Scene because he was trying to make sure Stiles didn’t break another phone?

Did...did Stiles just leave the room with the toothbrush in his mouth?

Okay, I get that this is a teen drama...but why does it have to be so obsessed with 16 and 17 year olds having sex? Seriously? It’s not the common occurrence people think it is? Now, if these were college age people...or, hell, even then it wouldn’t be this fucking common. Seriously. I don’t want eye-candy from someone who’s supposed to be 17 at MOST. Teenagers watching this might like the eye candy, but when I watched this at 17 I STILL was sick of the sexy scenes. Knock it off.

Also. Ethan IS STILL A FUCKING MURDERER.

.....uh....Ethan...do you not understand human anatomy? Giving Danny the bite wouldn’t remove the metal bars in his chest. It might heal the cartilage or whatever, but it wouldn’t REmove the BARS. Oh see that’s just creepy. Wait. OKay, are you telling me that Ethan’s thing that he wants, with this possession thing, is to bite Danny? AND HOW DOES DANNY NOT RESPOND TO THAT? HE’s supposed to know about werewolves, which means he HAS to be getting what Ethan’s going for. WTF?

...what the FUCk kind of voldemort “love and monsters” kinda bullshit was that? What does that have to do with Ethan’s deepest fear/insecurity?

I am...so confused. FIrst off, I love having Allison, Lydia, and Stiles all chillin’ trying to figure things out. THat’s amazing. But how do they know something’s up with Isaac? Also, it contradicts what I was theorizing before when Allison says the last time she saw Scott like that it was a full moon. Now I’m even more creeped out? WHy would they have her fully believe that it’s Scott, and just...let him be a fucking creep? Why would they openly admit that he’s been that terrifying with her before and then just...be chill about it? Also, when did she actually see Scott act like that? When he did it on his second moon Allison never saw him bc Derek tackled him into the woods. When did Scott go all creeper on her? Is this a REgular OCCUrREncE?

I know it was wasn’t intentional, but it’s such an adhd mood for Stiles to see the paper sticking out of the bible and just snatch at it. most people would call that ‘attention to detail’ but like...I just see it as ‘wtf is this, gotta know gotta know” mooood.

Why does Stiles go running to the next room like it’s an emergency, and what is the relevance of these articles in the bibles? LIke, yeah, you knew there were a ton of suicides. How does this help?? God, it’s like they were trying to make it a mini-horror film, but they just suck at understanding what the right order is to put things. FInding those articles should’ve been something that happened at the beginningin order to create a sense of unease, not in the middle of figuring things out!

how exactly did Stiles get the damn door open if it was locked? For that matter, how did Ethan know the handsaw was there? Was he on his way to talk to Lydia and Allison, or was he heading for Scott and Stiles’ room to get help? WHat’s going on???

Thank you Allison for not just Standing There. And Lydia for having a BRAIN. <3

HOW DID STILES HOLD BACK ETHAN? Ethan IS AN ALPHA? HOW?

OKay. I know I said I wouldn’t comment on these scenes with Jennifer, but this is just a general observation. DEREK. YOU HAVE A CELL PHONE. YOU ARE PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF CALLING PEOPLE FROM THE BED.

What...what does that mean Ethan? “You probably shouldn’t have.” WHat?

I know it’s supposed to be for the Allison/Scott angle, but I just love Lydia and Stiles heading to save the pack. *sigh*

I gotta say, I actually really respect Stiles for straight up telling Lydia about the parallels he’s seeing. Rather than hide it from her, he’s trying to get to the root of the problem, point blank and he’s being honest with her about his worries that she might be involved without even knowing it. And she listens and doesn’t get immediately defensive. This communication is SO GOOD. Stydia BROTP.

I’m fucking on the verge of tears. Sinqua, your acting is just...like, you barely speak in this scene and yet your face is just??So pained?

Bare feets. I know I point it out a lot, but like, compared to kali, who keeps her claws out all the time even in like a fucking hospital. It’s so cute to see Boyd and Isaac wandering barefoot in their hotel room. Just, the level of calm it implies, despite the situation. They feel so safe with each other.

ALSO did Boyd go through all of that while Isaac was under the bed?

WAIT WHAT? WHy is Lydia suddenly all pissed off? WHAT? That makes no sense! But then when she says his name, she doesn’t sound upset at all?? WHAT?

ALSO, I thought this was supposed to be about suicides? Why did they add this totally random (and horrific) thing? It has nothing to do with BoYD! JUST BECAUSE YOU PUT A TRIGGER WARNING DOESN”T MEAN YOU NEED TO MUSH AS MUCH FUCKED UP SHIT AS POSSIBLE INTO ONE EPISODE. GOD. It’s like those people who assume just because they’re allowed to do R rated shit, they have to have random sex scenes in their tv show.

where did Scott get gasoline? Like...where?

God fucking damn it, how fucking demonizing can you get, fucking juxtapositioning Scott’s suicidal monologue about Derek suffering and being dead, then jumping to Derek fucking someone instead of telling anyone he’s alive? What the fuck is wrong with these people? Why is it literally ANY TIME Stiles or Derek are in some way happy (NOT that I’m considering Derek at that moment in time Happy or in any way okay) they always make it out to be the most horrible thing ever? It’s like I said before, Stiles smiling on the field because he actually gets to play lacrosse? Jackson’s about to die. Stiles happy because he’s going to play a game in class? His best friend is missing. Derek....I’m not even going to give what’s going on a name. But then they just layer that over Scott...what even is he doing? Everyone else actually tried to kill themselves. Why is he just...standing there? Are they seriously trying to make the claim that his strength of will is so strong he’s the only one could can hold out against the...whatever the fuck is causing this? Jesus fucking christ do you have to turn him into Jesus every time? SERIOUSLY?

YOU DIDN”T THOUGH. SCOTT YOU LITERALLY REFUSED TO FIGHT BACK. YOU PLANNED A RENDEVOUS WITH DEUCALION BEHIND EVERYONE’S BACK BECAUSE YOU INSISTED FIGHTING BACK WAS WRONG. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD IF DEREK AND THE OTHERS HADN”T COME TO FIND YOU.

...I get that this is supposed to be an emotional moment, but why the fuck does Scott’s monologue about how much he sucks have to drag Stiles down with him? Stiles was literally always good at lacrosse. He never got ‘better’ before being put on the field. You saying that the both of you were ‘nothing’ is a terrible, horrible thing to say because you’re implying that because Stiles didn’t get the bite like you did, the only thing that makes him more than nothing is being your friend. How does Scott manage to be a total asshole even when he’s in the middle of explaining why he wants to die?

AGAIN WITH THE RANDOM PLOTLINES. DAVIS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? IS THE HOTEL HAUNTED, OR IS THE WHISTLE FULL OF WOLFSBANE OR IS THE DARACH ACTIVELY MAKING THEM KILL THEMSELVES? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? ANd why would the Darach be making them kill themselves?? THey don’t match any of her sacrifice requirements! This makes no sense with the plotline you follow for the rest of the season!

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SCENE? Scott was NOWHERE NEAR Ethan? WHY THE FUCK DID HE GIVE SCOTT THE CREDIT FOR SAVING HIS LIFE? And why would he thank him for it, when he told Stiles he shouldn’t have been saved? WHAT IS GOING ON?

Also, why does Ethan have like, a bruise thing on his cheek? Is that...is that a skin thing, or like, a show thing?

This doesn’t solve the problem of Allison’s car being stuck with an empty tank at the side of the road halfway to Beacon Hills.

dude. you realize that was literally 34 years ago? Deucalion would have to be like 50. and even then he would’ve been a fucking 16 year old Alpha. So that makes Deucalion more likely in his 60s. Also, why the fuck do you care Chris? This is such a random fucking thing. It makes no sense. What the fuck does it matter now?

Last Thoughts: What the fuck even is this episode? It’s like this steaming dumpster fire of half-assed ideas and loose ends to plots we’ll never see and really shitty horror movie vibes. We’re talking D List or maybe E list horror movies. I’m honestly disgusted? I can’t remember the last time I had to watch something so tasteless and cruel and insensitive in every single way?

.....on to the next episode, I guess. God, I need to change all of this in the rewrite, and I don’t know if I can actually make it good?

#personal #anti-scott mccall #TeenWolf-Rewatch

[maddiefriendlovesbilly]

If you feel up for writing more ever all I crave is Ghost angst Constantly S a d //it can have a happy or sad ending if you want I just need to agressively throw my emotions at a fiction character who is also sad//

So anon, I know its been like a few Months or something since you requested this, but here it is,,, Ghost angst!! I can’t tell you my plans because that would spoil the surprise but what I can say is: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I present to you:

Once More, This Time With Feeling

Rating: PG-13 (but rating may go up), SFW for now

Ship: Ghost/Spooker

Warnings: Angst, emotional turmoil, Ghost being an idiot feelings-wise, dark/intrusive thoughts, blocking others out, next chapter may have more warnings

Summary: The P.I.E. team head out for a seemingly normal case, but things quickly spiral out of control, and Ghost ends up in quite a unique circumstance, to say the least.

Word Count: 3,516

Nothing unusual happens, before it all starts, nothing that would indicate how utterly to shit everything goes in a mere matter of hours. There are no red flags, or bad omens, or warning signs. Everything seems as normal as it can be when you’re a paranormal investigator for a living - so when the call comes in for a fairly simple job, Ghost accepts and gives the woman an ETA before shouting a quick, “We’ve got a job!” down the hall and slinging his satchel over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. He hears a distant whoop from Spooker just before he exits, to which he rolls his eyes.

The car ride is uneventful, save for some antics with Toast’s driving license - or lack thereof. They reach the large office building a few minutes before he said they would, and the woman has a look like she’d be pleased if the situation weren’t so distressing - he’s been met with similar looks much more than one might expect. He walks over and introduces him and his team, all business, and only grimaces slightly when he introduces Spooker, though he thinks the woman might have noticed nonetheless. 

She’s mocha-skinned, a fraction taller than Ghost and perfectly kempt, with a perfectly trimmed bob and rigid posture that scream, “Inconvenience me, I dare you.” An immaculate suit and tie complete the look.

Her name is Christine Hemmingway, and she explains that she works in the office behind her as a supervisor - during a recent trip to the basement, she discovered a strange new door leading to a series of branching underground tunnels reaching lengths she can’t accurately estimate without entering them - an idea she wisely rejected outright - but, from what little she saw from the entrance, might span the entire downtown area. She heard noises, possibly talking, along with a faint ebbing glow, coming from one of the tunnels on the right, but shut the door before she could see who, or what, it was when the sounds went quiet and she heard footsteps approaching. When Ghost asks, she’s adamant the door wasn’t there before, and has replaced a water cooler and a stubby filing cabinet too short to conceal the door, both of which have disappeared completely.

Looking up at the building Ghost notes that it looks completely empty, and asks Christine if she has a way inside, to which she nods and pulls out a key card with her face on it, handing it to him while saying, “Lose this, and you’ll regret it - one, because you won’t be able to get out, and two, because you’ll have to explain to security why you’re inside a business outside office hours, and while I’m sure they’d just love to hear the story of a spooky new door in the basement, I doubt it will save you from being charged with breaking and entering.” Ghost nods and after unlocking the front door and jamming his foot in the crack, he tucks the card safely inside his bag. He hears Toast mutter something like, “Wouldn’t be the first time,” and snorts inelegantly.

Christine looks like she’s starting to rethink her decision about hiring them, so Ghost spits out something professional sounding along the lines of, “We’ll do our best to find the cause of these tunnels, you can count on us ma’am,” and it seems to work pretty well, until Colon breaks the silence with a sharp cough that sounds suspiciously like laughter. Ghost fails to suppress a side-long glance his way, and does even worse at keeping a single brow from arching in question; Colon only “coughs” again, louder this time.

For the sake of his likely rapidly declining paycheck, he just sighs and opens the door, holding it there and waving the others inside. “After you.”

The others enter and he takes the rear, letting Toast lead them towards an elevator with a “1” printed beside it. Pressing the down arrow, Spooker comments, “Nice to use a normal, functioning elevator for once, usually they’re either busted or do something crazy, like move diagonally or something, and are bringing us somewhere that’ll probably try to kill us.”

They all huff varying degrees of laughter, and Ghost replies, “I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t know what you expected when you answered the job request, because “normal” stuff isn’t something we have an abundance of in the “paranormal investigation” line of work. It’s sort of in the name.”

Spooker shrugs and smiles at him dopily, and the elevator dings beside him, announcing its arrival as the door slides open. He flinches at the volume, smile faltering, and they quickly shuffle inside. Colon hits the ‘B’ button, cringing when it beeps too. The elevator shifts and, with a groan, begins its descent. They’re silent on the way down, apart from the occasional tapping of Toast’s foot, or the click-click of Ghost making sure his flashlight works. Spooker looks up at this, and Ghost can practically see his thoughts when he starts, and fumbles at the one clipped to his belt, mouthing “Oh!” He grabs it, looking quite pleased with himself.

Ghost feels something pool in his chest at the sight, much too fond for his liking, and when his lip twitches upwards in amusement, whatever was swelling in his chest immediately curdles. The not-quite-smile sours and congeals, writhing, until he’s left with a deep scowl and an aching where something softer once lay. Despite its unpleasantness, Ghost still finds the feeling easier to deal with; bitterness and discomfort were familiar, they kept him grounded in reality, rather than letting him get his hopes up only for them to be crushed yet again. He doesn’t know how Spooker stays so positive despite how often he’s rejected and let down, especially by Ghost - he doesn’t think he could completely bounce back from many of them, let alone do it as quickly as Spooker does.

As the elevator chimes its arrival to the basement, Ghost feels a sharp pain on his bottom lip, and swears under his breath when he realizes he’s worried his lip hard enough to draw blood. The other two are too far to hear it, but Spooker glances back from where he stands in the doorway, concerned. His eyes flick to Ghost’s lips - the bottom of which now has a small bump, and Ghost swipes his tongue over it unconsciously, tasting iron - and when he meets his eyes again Spooker seems even more worried. “Are you-” he starts, but Ghost interrupts before he can finish, responding, “It’s fine - just a cut,” and Spooker looks like he wants to point out that that isn’t what he was asking, but isn’t sure how, but it doesn’t matter because it’s shut him up for now. He slides past Spooker, deciding to just put aside the whole elevator ride for the time being - he can deal with it after they’ve completed the mission, once he’s alone. He schools his features to neutrality and makes his way across the room to where Toast and Colon are examining an old wooden door, ill-fitting in its modern surroundings. “I understand what she meant by ‘strange’ now,” he comments as he approaches.

“Yeah, definitely stands out, doesn’t it?” Colon shoots back, and rolls back onto his heels, taking in their surroundings.

“All I can really think about is all that paperwork they’re going to need to redo,” Toast interjects.

Ghost snorts, pushing past them, announcing, “Alright, let’s get this shit over with,” and gripping the rusty handle and turning it. He swings open the door to reveal an empty, narrow tunnel, too long for his flashlight’s beam to reach very far ahead, with archways presumably leading to similar tunnels. Spooker, being the last one in, shoves a nearby chair into the gap between the door and frame to keep it open, just in case.

They make their way down the main tunnel, shining their lights down the branches as they pass, every once in a while coming across a room, which they poke their head into, or an iron door - often locked, each with a small, barred window to see inside, and most leading to another seemingly identical tunnel, some complete dead ends, others to (sometimes totally barren) rooms - with no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Something about it all plants a growing seed of dread in the pit of his stomach, but he can’t place what it is that bothers him so much. None of these things are unusual to see in their investigations, and are all pretty by-the-book as entities’ lairs go, but maybe it’s the way it’s all laid out - there’s no practical way for them to search every single tunnel, that would take days, maybe weeks, so there’s no real way to know what to expect, and the door placement is so sporadic that it’s impossible to tell if something is locked because it’s important, or just another meaningless path to who-knows-where; maybe it’s that they’ve been walking for at least fifteen minutes and nothing has changed, other than the fact that he can’t see the door anymore, just a wall of darkness at their backs. There aren’t any lights, though Ghost does spot an empty sconce every so often, and Ghost isn’t afraid of the dark by any means, nor is he claustrophobic, but he can feel the darkness behind him like hands on his back, and the tunnel is carved just wide enough to almost fit two people side by side, with flawless smooth stone on all sides, and a ceiling that arcs just above Toast’s head at its peak, so close that Ghost worries it might come crashing down any moment. He doesn’t even know if these are even actual tunnels in the ground, or if they’re in another dimension, or between them - and he’d rather avoid repeating that experience, thank you very much.

Glancing around, the others don’t seem to be any more on alert than they usually are on missions, so he’s probably just overthinking it - but that explanation does little to quell the panic rising in his chest, which only grows larger, filling the space his lungs need to expand. He realizes he’s chewing on his lip again when the cut stings from being reopened. He digs his nails into his palm to bring himself back to the present, but the hands on his back have morphed into something colder, darker, and he can’t focus when, logically, he knows there’s nothing behind him but an empty tunnel and eventually an old door, but every instinct in his body is screaming that something is very, very wrong, and they need to leave right now, but he can't even tell if there’s still an available escape because the tunnel is so completely void of light and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He doesn’t see Colon take out his detector, and clearly jumps about a foot in the air when it shatters the silence with a shrill beep - and just when did it become so deathly quiet that the only sounds are their footsteps on the smooth, stone floor? - and when they look at him like he’s grown a second head he laughs awkwardly and says, “Warn a guy next time!”

Colon takes it at face value, and apologizes before turning back to the beeping machine in his hand; Toast gives him a look of “everything okay?” to which he shrugs, and Toast nods in understanding, probably planning on asking him about it later. Spooker seems unconvinced though, and while he doesn’t say anything, he steps just a fraction closer to Ghost, and maybe by doing so he’s admitting it’s not really fine, that nothing is, but nonetheless, he doesn’t move away. It’s not obvious with the close confines of the tunnel, but Spooker notices, and he smiles a little, but it’s tinged with sadness and something else Ghost can’t name.

That’s when the detector’s beeping spikes, turning frantic.

Everyone is on alert immediately, but Toast is the first one to motion in the direction of what sounds like approaching footsteps, bare on the cold stone floor. They all turn around to face whatever’s coming down the passage, the beeping steadily increasing as the footsteps get louder. A pale foot inches into the beam of one of their flashlights, quickly followed by another, and with it, the rest of the short, petite girl, a mop of tangled black hair hiding most of her face and slim shoulders. Her white dress drags behind her in chunks, shredded and stained from dragging across the ground.

Ghost feels his eyes widen, and realizes he’s stumbled back, pressing into Spooker, who’s practically holding him up by the shoulders. Through the strands of hair he can see a single eye staring out at the bodies crowding the narrow hall, and he knows it’s stupid, but he can’t shake the feeling that it’s staring straight into him, even though she hasn’t glanced up once yet. He’s pretty sure he’s shaking now, and can only hope that Spooker hasn’t noticed, for the sake of his pride.

The ragged figure stops just inside the beam, finally looking up. She meets Ghost’s stare, and holds his gaze - they stay that way, matching each other in a silent battle of ‘who will crack first?’

“K-” he starts, “Katrina?”

Spooker shifts behind him, Ghost thinks he might be staring at him too. He doesn’t break away to check.

Katrina says nothing, only stares.

He takes a quivering step forward, feels Spookers hands fall from his shoulders, reaches out. Katrina still doesn’t look away, but she also doesn’t move away, so he takes another step towards her, then another, then another, until he’s right in front of her, hand merely an inch away from making contact. The flashlight in his hands quakes violently in his death-grip, but he drops a hand onto her shoulder, which is surprisingly solid. This seems to break Katrina from her trance though, and she screeches - not unlike a banshee, Ghost thinks distantly - clawing at him. 

He veers back, not quite quick enough to avoid the talons that just catch his cheek, leaving two shallow claw marks behind. The other three behind him break from their stupors and begin shouting, pushing themselves bodily between the two of them in an effort to protect him. Spooker makes it his job to confirm that Ghost is somewhat okay, before turning back to face the enemy in front of them.

Ghost’s cheek oozes blood, but not enough to really be worried, so he just holds one sleeve up to the cheek, letting it soak up the sticky liquid. The others have their guns trained on Katrina, but he can’t manage to make himself do the same, so he just ends up standing at the back, watching. He feels like a coward. Bile still threatens to claw its way out of his throat as he stands there numbly.

Behind her ratty tangles, she catches Ghost’s eyes once more, before disappearing altogether. He hears himself sobs her name under his breath, feels his legs wobble beneath him, but somehow manages to stay standing, despite the sickening dread swimming in the pit of his stomach. It doesn’t last long though, because soon, the group of them are hit with a wave of vertigo so strong, they fall to their knees collectively. Ghost chokes on his nausea. He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the swimming feeling, and when he opens them again, the long, narrow hallway is gone, replaced instead by an inky black room.

He fumbles blindly at his belt, whipping out his flashlight and flicking it on. He pivots, but his flashlight quickly collides with an obstacle - one that responds with a sharp “Ack! Dude-!” in Spooker’s voice.

“Shit!” Ghost spits, stumbling back - not very far, mind you, being that he hits the wall behind him not two steps back - and proceeds to shine his light directly into Spooker’s eyes until he shields them. “Jeez-Jesus, dude, Jesus.” He finally lowers the light, dropping into a crouch. “I gotta-I can’t, man. Shit!” He takes in a shaky gulp of air and tries not to scream.

Spooker probably has that look he gets when he’s trying to play it cool and seem unconcerned - but just ends up looking confused instead - because Ghost can hear it in his voice when he says, “Are y-?” He clears his throat. “Do you uh-need me to-er take care of that scratch? It could get infected if we don’t uh, do that. Yeah.”

“It would probably help to find some light,” he says, with more bite to it than either of them were expecting, “Y’know, so we don’t blind each other in this pitch-ass-black room?”

Spooker wisely does not comment on that statement, simply takes out his own flashlight and sweeps the beam around the room, eventually coming to rest beside Ghost. He looks up, realizes his head is inches away from the door handle, and sighs wearily before rocking forward and up into a standing position, opening the door.

He’s sure that neither of them are expecting to be met with a completely foreign corridor, still narrow, but seemingly lived in, at least in the past. Dim lights flicker overhead, implanted in a tile ceiling, a stark contrast to the empty sconces and carved stone of the previous tunnel.

They glance at each other once, before shuffling into the hall. Ghost sees three other doors lining the hall - one on the end and two on the opposite wall - and makes his way to the closest one. He moves to try the knob, but is impeded by Spooker catching the hood of his jacket and dragging him back, tutting, “Nope! We’re dealing with your injuries before we do anything else!”

Ghost feels himself pouting, and quickly changes his expression into one more neutral before turning around; Spooker seems to see it nonetheless, because he placates him by saying, “It’ll only sting for a second, promise!”

He pulls him to the ground, and Ghost crosses his legs, resting his uninjured cheek on his hand. He’s very much not sulking right now, even if Toast would tease him for it if he were present. He especially doesn’t glare at the alcohol as Spooker pulls it out. He does hiss as Spooker dabs at his cut, and he can see how much Spooker is struggling to not roll his eyes.

Finally, he’s allowed to do actually important things, and walks to the door, gripping the handle. It rattles, staunchly denying him entry, so he moves on. The next one does the same, and he moves to the one at the end of the hallway, which thankfully swings open with a grating creak, revealing a dimmer, but otherwise identical hallway to the one behind him. He repeats the process, with the exact same result as the previous section. He glances back at Spooker before pushing open the door at the end, to reveal a slightly dimmer version.

Again, he tries the doors. Again, the one at the end is the only one that opens. The next hallway is slightly darker than the last.

Ghost’s stomach churns nervously, and he glances once more at Spooker, whose expression is starting to match his own.

The light quickly diminishes, and soon enough they’re flicking their flashlights back on. “Crap-” he hears behind him, just before their lights flicker once, twice, and die simultaneously. A familiar giggle echoes throughout the small corridor, and Ghost shivers, moving minutely closer to where he last saw Spooker. Ghost shakes himself and fumbles toward the end of the hall, using the walls to guide himself. “Try the other doors, I’ll try the one at the end of the hall.” He hits the end of the hall a little harder than he meant to, and is a little glad for the dark, even if it can’t hide the soft ‘thud’ that bounces through the room. The door rattles in its frame, unbudging, so Ghost throws over his shoulder, “This one’s stuck, what about the others?”

“No luck over he-Woah!” A slam ricochets throughout the small place - presumably the door meeting the wall in a less than pleasant fashion. “You good?” Ghost manages to get out without his worry peeking through, falling just short of nonchalant.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m alright, just caught me off guard. Let’s go.” They hobble through the doorway, which slams shut behind them. Ghost’s mind swims with deja vu for a second, but he can’t place the reason for it, so he decides to put it aside for the moment.

Ghost thinks later that if he had to choose the moment everything truly started going to shit, he might choose this one. Like the calm before the storm, or the eye of a hurricane, or some other cliché crap.

Either way, the soft click of the door locking behind them feels like an omen of things to come.

Or maybe it’s the axe swinging directly toward Spooker’s head.

#jess answers #venturiantale #venturiantale pie #johnny ghost #johnny toast #jimmy casket #fred spooker #chris colon ghostie #vt katrina #ghooker #ghost x spooker #as requested (ages ago)!! #jess writes

[anosmi16]

a story

I felt neither good nor bad… A giant television on a metallic coffee table in the Hall Leopard print seats Wallpapers decorated with white roses Buffet full of colorful drinks A giant black air conditioner Wall mounted antique turntable setWe tied up on a handmade rug with a burgundy pattern. Stars were falling on us from the bright stones of the chandelier above us. For the first time in the light, I had the opportunity to examine everyone.If you ask me I'll tell: I'm 19; I'm not national yet. I made a living making french fries at McDonald's for a while. I make breakfast with milk and biscuits. I say I drink tea without sugar, but I don't drink much. My grandfather said I didn't have as much intelligence as open yogurt. Maybe he's right; my grandfather was a yoghurt man.

Every fall he falls in love again, chasing after racy women; I'll finally sleep in the bosom of honest women. When the rain comes down on the city, the wet bridge bottoms, I think of hazy parks. Although I'm very sorry, I don't like to give money to a beggar.

*

My boyfriend and I had been separated for a week. I worked for the White Pages cleaning company on minimum wage. That's where we met the trust. We were sent to wipe the window of a skyscraper.

The trust called me home on a cloudy April day. I set off at sunrise in the morning. The bus was full of breath. I put my head against the glass, wandering among the colorful flowers of the Rising Sun, I watched him cover the horizon with curtains between wine liquid and gold dust. My uncle next to me drove the worst Cologne on the market. Suddenly it started raining. Why does the rain suddenly start in my stories?..

My companion wiped the misted glass with his hand and created a space the size of a turtle. We were just watching it together. The rain descended into the city like a wall of water. Rainwater that fills the hole in the concrete, he ran Mother Nature, who made coffee with milk, like a “barista.” The same waters, in the soil, were a visual feast of chocolate pudding. Water gushed from both sides of the bus, which went like a knife. So to speak, his city was flooding; and so to speak, … I got off in Hatay and walked home. The rain stopped, and a silvery rainbow appeared. The last silver drops were creating Mercury-colored balls where it fell. The water dripping from the eaves to the tin roofs kept the rhythm. It was the oldest building in the area, with cracks in the wall in places.Trust Fish-stamp blue eyes, Auburn blunt hair, he was a boy with angular facial features, bright skin, a bird of prey look. The trust had interesting moves: He would turn his eyelids upside down, showing off his bloody skin. We went out on the balcony and watched the boys play ball. The ball was drawing muddy pictures on T-shirts, with the natural palette the street offered. At that moment, I loved those children more than he did.A sweet sun opened, caressing the hair of my arms. As the Rays descend in a yellow wave, a lemon butterfly flying upside down hit a clothesline and took off again. It was like I started life today. A happy baby giggled inside me. I hung from the balcony and looked down. On the lower balcony was an aunt who sang songs to the lovebirds. A grey cat was rubbing its nose against melted house slippers. As if at that moment, there was a softness of cat hair all over the city.

The floor was full of bait, and birds were placed on our balcony. His mother used to feed birds. The balcony was a dump. I got an idea! I collected all the bait and poured it all the way to the Hall. He came in eating about ten pigeons. We jumped them ... but one of them was caught. He fluttered his tail like a dying fish. We cut off his head and plucked his feathers and cooked and ate them.

*

Two hours later, his mother came home. She was one of the old Istanbul women. Her hair was Golden like a wet kadayif sucking sorbet. He wore glasses with a pink frame that were appropriate for this Color. He had an aquarium on his lap. A coral-colored goldfish was swimming in it. His mother looked at us with her blurred face after the cambered glass. His face was bigger than it was; or so it seemed to me. He didn't like slang, blasphemy, he was an obsessive type. When he saw me, he showed sweet kindness, which is trust.; - A few people from the apartment when we caught the pigeon. he was rude and swearing, but don't worry, we fucked them, too. quoth. 🙂

I showed the trust the fish; it raised one eyebrow and said, " Never Mind.” he made a sign like a der. Her mother told me when she went to her room: - Since the fish died last month. I think he thinks he'll die if he doesn't.

I was ashamed to see loyalty to the covenant that I had not seen in anyone in this woman… "Didn't you see the prayer necklace around his neck?, ” my mother is extremely distressed at the moment, " he said. 🙂 Substitute dementia drug Dozyl Easy she said she often took birth control pills. She lamented that she still couldn't forget her husband, who died of cancer. He made an arrow and showed me the photo on the wall. It was a picture of a man with a mustache in a striped short-sleeved shirt. He was a member of the Butchers ' Association. A meaningless expression sat on the trust's face.

I noticed that until that moment, he never mentioned his father.; I didn't know what to say. Did he expect me to laugh or be upset? It annoyed me that he determined my actions. I'm not sure I left the house and locked the door, I was in that moment of ambivalence between leaving and coming back. Fortunately, he dropped his eyes on the ground and moved on to another topic. I sucked my lips so I wouldn't laugh.

It was like our classic mothers.… Clicking on the icons in”quick launch " many times before opening… Bank passwords are 1234… He doesn't know the email passwords and gets a new one every month… Who never throws away yogurt containers… "Eat stale bread today, eat fresh tomorrow” what he said, entered the endless cycle of bread at home… Even for fresh bread to come in line, or guests to come or a few weeks had to pass…

They can't focus on anything but what they think! It doesn't matter what you ask, it matters what you think. That's why the answer you get with your question is completely irrelevant.

He said his mother locked the bathroom even when he was at home. - What, I said, Everybody does that. - He said I wouldn't. - But you love her, right? I said. - It doesn't matter to me! quoth. - How can it not matter, I thought it meant so much to you? I said. - He's important to me, not his thoughts! To see your dreams more clearly, do you know he's been sleeping with his glasses on for three days? quoth.

Suddenly his mother called out from the kitchen: - Guys, come on, I made tea!

I was so surprised when I walked into the kitchen. His mother filled the glasses with hot water and looked at us with candy in her hand. When I saw the empty water in the bottom and top teapot, I knew you didn't put the tea in. But he kept asking how many sugars we were going to throw in the water, as if nothing had happened. Confidence began to scream: - Mom, are you hard to tell, or is the signal late?

Apparently, until this age, he lived like a plant in a pot… If I'd stayed in that house a little longer, I'd have lost my mind!

*

2 Months Later… The fact that we rarely saw each other prevented our friendship from deteriorating. On a hot June night, my phone rang at three in the morning.

Güven: Brother, we're coming for you! “Yihuuuuu” sounds and shouts from behind… Girls with cracked, detonated voices mixed with road noise…

I'm wearing my best clothes; I think maybe I am. An hour later a grey Audi braked bitterly in front of me. There was confidence at the wheel. Because of two girls dancing in the back, Foundation, sweat, underarm, crushed lipstick scents wrapped the car like black tulle. Inside the car was so dark, their faces were mice, his eyes looked like a pinhead. A Midsummer Night's car that gives me goosebumps, he was moving forward, knocking down the trees he had dismantled on the windshield. The dark blue cool of the morning gave me the creeps, licking my face. He was driving full of confidence. He just turned and; – I have good news and bad news to you. Which one would you like to hear first? quoth. - The bad one, said one of the girls. - We're almost out of gas! - So, what's the good news? he shouted, another one. - But it's not over. When we arrived in the rich district of Hatay, Nokta, we got out of the car. The building was like a bright star rising stubbornly to the houses next to it. There was another bug-black Audi outside the door. Handan, - It's dad's spare car, they're in the summer, he said.Girls by word of mouth: "He left the key at home!"they shouted. The apartment was on the fifth floor. The balcony door was closed. - Is the balcony locked? I asked. - No, it's open, they always said it.The famous " free dynamite, let the ass explode!"I remembered our proverb. It was a marriage to climb that apartment for free. I hugged the ground floor irons running. I crossed the first floors like a spider. As I rose, an invisible, malignant hand hung down my shoulders. The month of June, the depth of the apartment… In that purple night that moves inside me… Rusty balcony irons soaked in moisture in the air…I wanted to go to the inside of the balcony on the last floor. I hung so hard on the iron that I watched tiny dust flow from the wall. I jumped in and looked proud from high to low. They raised their arms and applauded me. I was a rock star greeting fans on the concert platform. And they are poor "groupie"… Why didn't I fly at them? Only the shadow of that thought passed through my head!..I was afraid the balcony was locked. Fortunately, it opened and I barged in. The house smelled of fried apple peel. Completely different feelings in this rich house… Would I feel the same way if I went into a slum? Or would I feel patetic? I greeted them like the flirtatious Prince of the rich house.Trust my ear, when you see me climb Handan - Oh, I am doing sex with this guy, and he said he curtsy. I felt neither good nor bad… A giant television on a metallic coffee table in the Hall Leopard print seats Wallpapers decorated with white roses Buffet full of colorful drinks A giant black air conditioner Wall mounted antique turntable setWe tied up on a handmade rug with a burgundy pattern. Stars were falling on us from the bright stones of the chandelier above us. For the first time in the light, I had the opportunity to examine everyone. Handan He was medium-sized, fat, sparse red hair, with tiny eye sockets. His eyes looked like cigarette ash. He pulled a tight pair of shorts under a lion-patterned T-shirt. He had a Band-Aid on his heel. Her lips were purple and superimposed. His voice was”contralto". There was a” Hasbian " side. It was as if it had been cut from an old village photo and glued to this world. You know the story of the Red Chief's ransom: Guys kidnap a rich banker's kid. But the boy is such a pain in the ass that in the end, bandits, they pay the banker to get the boy back.That's what this girl had. He was the kind to love with gloves if he was a son…

Dilan She was a medium-sized brunette beauty. His shiny temples were dislocated. Her dark hair was falling out like a black stick of pasta. From him I smelled a clean aselbent. When you said his name, his black velvet eyes were wide open and greased. Her pink lips were healthy. The lip pit extending to his nose was as deep as a plain. She was a smart chick with a stupid look. His nose was upturned and bony. It was possible to see the bone from the skin of the nose. She wore a red dress that showed off her waist thin and spilled over her hips. Her well-groomed nails were transparent nail polish.

If you looked at him hard, a maddening smile would settle on his face. Maybe he was laughing to suppress his stress. His vervain-white teeth were as bright as candlelight. His voice was”soprano, " and his harrowing vibrations were sweet. You were afraid to touch the baby through the window because it would break. It was ringing like a crystal in the sun. Immediately after crying so as not to upset you, he looked like a woman laughing and wiping her eyes. It was a sharp and biting beauty. He noticed it when I took a picture of it with my eye and recorded it in hidden places in my memory. But he laughed again… It was locked in my eyes for ten seconds. All night long, I went crazy for him to do the same thing again.

One of the girls was sent by angels, the other was the devil's seventh daughter who ran away from home. I don't want to talk too bad, but, a homeless man who drank three bottles of wine could have slept with him when he was in an alcohol coma. I don't want to break your heart, but if you were left with him on a deserted island you'd jump in front of the Sharks and swim away. I don't want to overtax you, but, anyone who had sex with him would be sexually angry and asexual. If he slept with his math teacher, he'd be out of numbers. If he was a bodyguard, the teacher would be crippled. If he slept with a doctor, he'd quit the profession, if he slept with a cop, he'd shoot himself., if he'd stayed with the guard, he'd have agreed to life in prison. I don't want to exaggerate, but if he slept with a gorilla, he'd cool it off., if it had entered the zoo, it could have caused the shelter to move. If he fled the country to another continent, they would bomb the continent so that he would never be discovered again. If he went to Mars ... … They poured dry grass into a cloth and wrapped it in white paper. Handan burned the cylinder he made a cigar and handed it to me. When I pulled it out, I got red needles stuck in my throat. It was as bitter as a hard stove smoke. Handan Was Next. He drew a huge breath and blew a cloud of blue smoke. He was always shouting. His voice was so loud and he wanted everyone to hear him. Tropical fruits were on the table. He stopped drinking and spat the cherry core on the floor like a bloody tooth. I wasn't really interested in what he said. I was drinking cool drinks in colored glasses. I wasn't even interested in fruit. I Had My Eye On Dilan. His eyes were marijuana. He pulled his tongue out of the edge of his lip and drew half a moon in the air and pulled it back. With his sharp facial features, he was a real Amazon. Handan explained that he started a new book and solved telekinesis. He said he could influence people far away with his power of thought. It didn't even affect those nearby. With red lettering on the black cover, It said” techniques for developing spiritual powers." I felt like laughing when I saw the book come out of cross-border publications. 🙂At one point, he decked out and ran and hung out the window half to his waist! Only his butt in shorts could be seen “I am in love with love, as Zeki Moren said: I love it!.."he shouted.I was thinking about where it came from to Zeki Müren!…"Where is the strong man who will take this noble woman! HAAA, TELL ME! WHERE'S MY WHITE HORSE RICE?"he blared. "He's definitely not here!” I said to myself. 🙂 Returned to us. He was sweating like an appendage. He was the type to be a goalpost when he played ball in the street.He looked deep into my eyes: He had a side that humiliated people. It was as if he was looking from the opposite side of the binoculars to see them as small. I looked like a solid object.And then he started complaining about the hairdresser who cut his hair wrong. Filhakika's hair was cut like crazy girls in the neighborhood. Trust and I made eye contact. “You're getting the evil eye, girl, the evil eye!"he faded. He was comforted by taking refuge in this secluded port. I put a drink in Dilan's empty glass. He raised his head slowly and pinched his eyelashes. The heat wave in his eyes melted a grain of ice in my mouth. From the crease on the back of her dress, pink lacy underwear was visible. He had a provocative sexuality…*Handan suddenly turned on the TV. He changed channels so fast., one jumped to the other before it opened. He wanted everyone to see his satellite TV with hundreds of channels.So we like Güven ... "he has expensive TV"? We didn't have a TV in our house when we were kids. We were so poor that the word “poverty” came into the country after us. As he sleeps, he looks out the window and likens the rain to movie frames. I'd dream and just sleep…*I didn't see a clock on the wall; we didn't have the concept of time. In one canal, guests were like dogs barking into the opposite garden. The end of the argument bothered me that they hugged and came home. And at home, it was chaotic. I was in a good mood; I was singing a song I changed in a hoarse voice: When I say I want to tell a joke; Guven made a phone call with his little finger and scratched his ear hard. Dilan spoke little, listened with extreme interest. He was sensitive, like putting cream on a child's scrawny shoulder. Handan was playing with his phone. It was about shopping, jewelry, luxury cars, sex, and football. No one talked about poverty. Maybe this was the last place he would talk. I wish I'd been born fifty years ago and not seen today! Because that night, my head was like Ashura, and a Dostoevsky book flew out of my brain!*Everyone began to retreat to the rooms…We're alone with the trust; in a whisper; - I said I want Dilan. - He said My son Dilan had his period, or I'd have arranged it anyway. - Then we don't have to do it with Handan, even if we stick it in him, he won't feel it, chubby. He said If you don't sleep with Handan, you'll close our door in this house, you have all my hope. - Son, am I an English Kemal, what hope, what mission? Everything's gone, and I have to stick it in Handan? I said. And why aren't you going to bed?- My son is very close friends with my girlfriend. Then we'll break the plan. Brother, lay the pipe, please!I found the bedroom. My hand turned slowly on the knob of the door. As the Gladiators entering the arena said to the Great Emperor: “The man who will soon die greets you!” Every unwanted sex meant a little dying… He lay in his bed like a consul's dog. In the room, the Red Night Light was burning to death. The closed curtains were bindall red. The golden satin cover of the round bed was on the floor. ” You know how unworn underwear smells, and you smell like it, " he said. It turned and stuck to my lips. His mouth smelled of rotten straw. It got harder and harder; there were teeth marks all over me. He was eating me alive. His tongue went in and out of my mouth like a little snake. Enthusiasm is ecstatic and makes a person insensitive to the outside world. I patted his ass, like he was growing all the time.Her breasts and vagina were slowly bubbling like Well-fermented dough. I sucked your chest and wanted to split it. He was one of the infinite; he could not be cut off. Then it could be razor-sharp!For him, life was to go to bed, change men, and suffer. His excitement rose from his toes to his alarmed lips. Everything he touched seemed to warm up; he was obviously impressed with me.He took my dick in his mouth, and after a while he came out on top of me. It was narrower than I thought; I was rubbing it with sandpaper. It was an irritation of inverted hair. I just started sliding in. Fortunately, he came right away. Then I came too. I've always counted your reflex: 1-2-3… 19-20-21… The curtains of the room from the wind are like a cinema decor, he disappeared into the Red night and came back.Then I got up and washed. He was looking at me when I came in.I sat on the bed and I said,” Are we going to do it again?" “How is that a word, shame?" said. Right, it was a shame if he was asked, but it was good if he fucked up… I went quietly to the balcony; My Shadow did the same: Suffocating air approaching dawn Neighbor's noisy running air conditioner Television that no one watches Moneyed partisans with dung brains arguing on screen Baby crying from next door Primate who listened to arabesques in the park and broke bottles Spiritual fatigue collapsing on my shoulders Longing for my old blanketI put my back against the wall and fell to the floor. On the balcony, air conditioning water dripped where I was sitting. Listening to these life-shortening noises, I began to wait for the morning. I left the house this morning while everyone was asleep. I got on an empty bus and went to the back. My soul was crippled, I was humiliated. But I had a strange pleasure in pain.He was always going to live in that luxury house. The time will come, he will move into a skyscraper. And I was just a fingerprint on the window of that Skyscraper. I was a minimum-wage Nefer for a cleaning company.He had never suffered from misery; he did not know what absence was. He read books, but it was just licking pages with his eyes. Some think it's a fight book without reading Fight Club; others read the back of gum paper and discover the secrets of the universe.I was a baby rabbit that escaped from a snake. But the poison needed time to take over my body. Faced with this fact, the bodies of orphaned children cut me off. I could feel it, even my fingertips were aching with pain. And this action was against my team.*Flower dust from the garden The smell of food covering the apartment Ashy garbage barrel A gray cloud of flies resembling dust Dedicated to making you happy, more precious than first love That dirty stray animal that loves you more than your mother, waiting for you every day Feveran eden puberty cravings Here I was back in my friendly neighborhood, where I belonged. Actually, I didn't miss them, I missed myself in those years!.. A week later… Looking for trust: - Why haven't you called for how many days? - I'm the one who doesn't call when the phone doesn't ring. - One more word and I'll kill you!!! Don't even sneeze! - Why? - I know you slept with her! 3 if you entered the Oro*pu kids competition. I said You will. He walked away from the handset to avoid laughing. - Why 1. not? quoth. - Because Charlie Chaplin Is In Monte Carlo., He entered the Charlie Chaplin-like contest and finished 3rd. It has happened. I said. And I added: Trust ... I wish I hadn't returned your calls. I said, Maybe you'd come to see me, and I unplugged the phone.Human beings have beautiful periods of suckiness. All of us we tried. First barbecue with the Dragon, and then say, “my hair is on fire”! I chased a rich girl for one night!.. And it was my fault!So, which one tells me better: “If you can't figure out who the sucker is at the gambling table for the first half hour, that means you're the sucker!"the Rounders movie?He drove the royalties from his unwritten novel to the gambling table; and to himself, “When are you going to write a novel?"said the casino owner, “Here I am writing!” Dostoevsky, who can?“A woman presents herself as an idol to the powerless, an object to the strong.” he said and burned all his notes in his hotel room in Turin, Pavese, who committed suicide with 21 sleeping pills?Virginia Woolf, the mermaid who entered the River Ouse with stones in her pockets?Cut off the earlobe and put it in a napkin, Van Gogh who sent it to a fah thing in blood?“I was told I should be afraid of whites, but here all the crimes are committed by my race."the black artist who said" 2Pac? Tell me which one?..We're mad at them, but... aren't my brothers responsible? Doctrine: "when you're young, you think you can connect with anyone. And then you realize it's only gonna happen once in a lifetime.” – Before Sunset

#story #my story #author #funny #long reads #writers

[solitaria-fantasma]

((Session 10 highlights, go!))

Fake Lord Hassan confirmed for “The Shadow” bandit we saw a bounty for waaaaay back in the early sessions.

We also found a set of money printing plates in the pile, so let’s add forgery to the long list of crimes committed here.

We also found (3) Potions of Speed, several boxes of (100) ‘mysteriously’ enchanted arrows, a silvered dagger, and a silvered mace.

I am rushing back and forth between taking notes and cooking a depression meal on mute and Google Docs is lagging HARD to update this 40 page document.

We wrapped up this arc of the story, and left the country to head on home!

We escorted Colette back to her homeland, and as thanks, she gave the party her blue Cloak of Protection.

I voted for it to go to Mountain, on the grounds that he is also blue, and it would match his color scheme….also he has the lowest AC of the party bc his player never upgraded his armor.

The rest of the party couldn’t decide, though, so the cloak went into storage as we traveled onward.

“So you all travel back to Phwie. You bond, and your hearts grow five sizes.”

We brought the magical dowry chest back to Lady Rose, and gave her the first key we’d found. She pulled out the other key and opened the chest in front of us.

Inside the chest was a tiny clockwork dragonling. It had been intended as a companion for Clarrissa when she was far from home, but Lady Rose gave it to the party, instead, as a tribute to her daughter who had always wanted an adventure.

This tiny dragon saw Udaji (a bigger dragon), decided “that must be my mom!”, and curled up on her flower crown.

Udaji had a sudden understanding of how her father felt when she hatched, cried, and was made its caretaker.

If we feed it metals, it gives us money, and it can also light small flames, and curl up into a pocket-watch form to hide.

It’s a tiny Transformer and I love them.

I’m going to name this clockwork dragonling “Filigree” and nobody can stop me.

The DM approved. ‘Filigree’ it is.

We head back out into town, and find out from the artificer we made a delivery to earlier that Maxine Von Trikona has been asking about us.

As soon as we seemed receptive to seeing Von Trikona again, she teleported our entire party - animals and all - right to her.

She tells us that she’s having a problem with her apprentice, Humphrey - he’s been going off to those ruins we first found him in and doing gods know what, and she wants us to drag him back.

We’re rich now and the reward isn’t super huge, but we’re still on good terms, and still owe Humphrey a semi-apology for stabbing him and only barely healing him in time, so we took the job.

We went back to the ruins where this whole campaign started, and found resurrected bandits waiting for us.

The DM had us roll for Perception and Udaji shattered all her records with a 16, allowing her to hear the muffled screams of some poor captive somewhere within the ruins.

We walked into a trap and every single one of us failed the Will save.

We blacked out, and woke up in a different room, tied up on an arcane circle as our life force was slowly siphoned away from us.

The new player is also tied up with us, and their icon is Dr. Strange. I like them already.

Also we got stripped of our armor and weapons and left in just our skivvies. Udaji is upsET but mostly because we’re lying on bloody stonework.

Aaaaand Humphrey is trying to kill us again. I wish I could say I’m surprised.

“I did not consent to this.”

Matthias keeps talking, and Humphrey keeps getting more and more annoyed, but he doesn’t stop the ritual.

I tried to freeze him with my ice breath, since I was tied up right beside him, and RIGHT as I did so, Mountain cloned himself, and charged.

Humphrey ran away like a little bitch, and teleported away with a magic circle, leaving all of us behind.

We got ourselves untied, and realized that Astrid - along with our dogs - is missing.

Oh nO FILIGREE IS MISSING TOO-

The new wizard - Sane - confirms that the portal Humphrey escaped through (though now inactive) is for interplanar travel.

There were a few more people around the circle who didn’t survive....

Udaji came in clutch with the high investigation rolls, and found a trapdoor in one corner of the room, as well as a lot of super-sketchy, nefarious arcane shit.

She grabbed a book of notes that looked pretty fresh. She may not  know what it’s all about, but Von Trikona probably will!

Mountain recognizes the dead bodies as the judge and a guard from the nearby town that we had dragged Humphrey to jail in early in the story for misdemeanor necromancy.

Claus found a strange pendant, but quickly alerts the rest of us not to touch it.

We open the trapdoor instead, and are instantly hit with the smell of rotting bodies. It’s the corpse storage space - chock full of bodies and personal belongings, all strewn around.

We find our stuff, and we find Filigree!! They’re scared, but unharmed!!!

We do not find our dogs, though.

If Humphrey has hurt Burnt Toast and/or Matthias Jr, I will return him to Von Trikona in a coinpurse.

We’re all missing something - Udaji’s Entertainer’s pack, a week’s worth of rations, a healing potion, and candles are gone.

Mountain is missing his leather armor (hah! Now he’ll HAVE to upgrade!) and his warpick.

Matthias is missing his beloved crown, one of his (stolen) luxury pillows, and his quiver (but not his arrows).

Sane found his psionic focus and cape, and doesn’t seem to be missing anything.

Claus also seems to be able to find all his things.

Astrid is still missing.

“Claus will not heal you [Matthias] if you keep stealing shit from the dead bodies he’s giving final rites to!”

Mountain apparently goes commando under his armor, and is not bothered by his lack of proper clothing. The rest of the party is.

“You’re gonna traumatize Udaji! She’s still a minor!”

Claus gave Mountain a cloak from one of the dead bodies purely for the sake of covering up.

Since the corpse room has no exit, we go back upstairs, and try the door instead.

The door is locked, and has no keyhole or handle. Udaji knocks, but no-one answers.

Mountain tries to bash the door down, fails, and takes four points of bludgeoning damage.

We still have the crystals Sane found, and the teleportation circle Humphrey left behind, but the crystals wouldn’t be strong enough to transport one of us out, let alone all of us, so we go back down to the Corpse Room to look around again.

Mountain found a pressure plate, and when he stepped on it, something clicked upstairs.

Claus is single-handedly throwing dead bodies up the trapdoor so that he can take them out of captivity and properly dispose of them.

We make it out the door…..aaaaand it’s a 10ft drop straight down into a hell realm.

Completely unprepared to explore another realm, the party went back inside and tried to get the portal working.

We failed, and after a while of debating amongst ourselves, we bit the bullet, and headed out to explore this weird realm.

The landscape eventually transitions from barren, craggy rock to green, fertile farmlands

There’s a few adults and a few children around, and Mountain goes up to talk to them, COMPLETELY FORGETTING THAT HE’S STILL    M O S T L Y    N A K E D-

I pointed this out in the chat, and the DM had to mute herself, she was laughing so hard.

We tell the adult Tiefling that we were robbed/nearly murdered by a necromancer, and for the sake of their child, they offer Mountain an outfit out of their closet that they weren’t really wearing.

I HAVE REALIZED THAT IT WAS NEVER SPECIFIED IF I LOST/FOUND MY LUTE AND I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW NOW IF I STILL HAVE IT-

The DM isn’t always looking at the text chat, and my mic is acting weird tonight so I can’t turn it on, so I’m just sitting here sadly as the others progress the story, waiting to hear if Udaji’s family heirloom and prized possession has been lost or not.

The Tiefling farmers tell us that there are a few gates back to our realm relatively nearby, but that the road between them is dangerous.

Our best bet is a semi-permanent gate maintained by a cult of Lythander, and Claus (a cleric of Lythander) perks right up.

The Tiefling farmers give us a very old map, and it turns out that by “relatively nearby”, they mean “on the same continent”.

I STILL HAVE MY LUTE: CONFIRMED!!! Udaji and I feel much better now.

Claus sees that the farmers’ well is a little dry, and uses magic to refill it for them. Suddenly, they’re more willing to give us better deals on trading.

We decide to head for the gate held by the cult of Lythander, and skirt around the magical ‘death zone’ by going through a territory ruled by an ice elemental.

Finally, Udaji’s ice resistance comes in handy!

We need to give a Potion of Darkvision to the wizard bc he’s human and can’t see otherwise, but I’m the one who’s holding it and no-one’s reading the text chat.

We’re starting to chat more than play now, and it’s past 11pm, so we’re probably about done for tonight.

#OOC #Quarantine D&D

[twdeadfanfic]

A not-so-quiet life Pt.8

Summary: You could say your life at the Greene’s farm after they took you in was a quiet one… as quiet as it could be considering corpses were walking around as flesh-eating monsters. At least, until a group of survivors in need take shelter in the farm.

Inspired by the request: The reader used to have an emotionally and physically abusive ex and the group runs into her ex and his group and shit hits the fan and the reader gets hurt.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Tags/Warnings: Violence and language typical twd style. Mentions of abuse and quite a lot of self-deprecating thoughts…and in the midst of all that, quite a lot of fluff too and also slow burn.

English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance.

Chapter: 8/13

-

Apparently, when Glenn and Daryl had said the road was not too blocked what they meant was that you could carefully drive through the abandoned cars, dodging the stranded walkers that roamed close.

They weren’t enough to be a problem and you were safe inside the car but you held your breath watching Daryl zigzag through the cars, leading you on his bike. You gasped aloud when a walker reached out for him but Daryl drove past it like nothing.

Maggie chuckled at that. “He’ll be fine, he’s used to it.”

You wondered why Daryl always went on his bike even if there was space in the car. No matter how much he loved the bike, you thought it was too much of a risk. He didn’t seem to share your opinion, he’d already brushed off your concern when you told him earlier, but seeing the walkers reaching our for him was wrecking your nerves.

Maggie was right, though, none of the walkers got to grab him. Glenn was driving slow, carefully maneuvering through walkers and cars, and Maggie opened her window and began sinking the knife into the heads of the closer monsters, and you followed her lead.

Eventually, you reached your destination, a big service area with a gas station, a small candies and gifts store, and a restaurant area. There seemed to have been a fire at the gas station and some burned and almost charred walkers were lying on the ground.

“That’s disgusting…” You said as you got out the car. “But with how big this place is we ought to find something.”

There were some walkers roaming around that began stumbling towards you. Maggie unsheathed her knife and made her way to them, followed by Glenn, while Daryl stayed slightly behind to shoot arrows at the monsters. You took your knife too, feeling a bit unsure about how to proceed but you sank it into the closer monster's head before sending it to the ground with a kick, yanking back your knife.

“Well done!” Maggie told you without stopping pushing forwards.

With a whistle, one of Daryl’s arrows embedded itself deep into the head of another walker which was getting close to you and then you felt Daryl’s hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t get behind.”

He warned you, shouldering his crossbow in favor of his knife, sinking it into another monster’s head, following Maggie and Glenn while you did the same until all the walkers were put down.

“Alright…” Maggie surveyed the place, hands on her hips, before looking at Glenn. “I say Glenn and I go to the gifts store and Daryl and Y/N to the gas station.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Glenn nodded.

You followed Daryl to the gas station, scrunching your nose at the smell of the burned walkers. It seemed all of them had died like that, and you yelped startled when a half-charred one opened its eyes with a small growl, reaching out and grabbing Daryl’s ankle. He yanked his leg away from its grip as nothing, kicking the monster on the face.

“Careful,” you said quietly, bending down to sink your knife in the head of the walker.

“It doesn’t have legs,” Daryl replied, not even looking at it.

“It can still bite and scratch.” You retorted.

You scooped around the outside but couldn’t find anything useful, the place seemed to have been raided, and so you made your way to the front door of the small store. Daryl knocked on the glass and in a second, a walker began banging it and growling from the other side.

You looked at Daryl in silence, waiting for instructions. He tried the handler of the door, not locked.

“Alright, you yank the door open, hide behind it and I put it down as it goes out, alright?”

“What if there’s more than one in there?” You asked, unsure, scared of opening the door and a bunch of walkers falling on Daryl.

“Nah…” Daryl looked through the dirty window into the dark store, ignoring the thuds of the walker inside. “I think that’s the only one. Come on.”

“Okay…okay…” You took a deep breath. “Three, two, one…”

You yanked the door open, making sure to get behind it, and a walker stumbled out but Daryl quickly grabbed it by the neck and put it down. It wasn’t wearing the uniform of the gas station and you guessed it might have been a client or maybe someone who went scavenging and got bitten…you tried not to think much about who walkers had been before, though.

“Done.”

Daryl walked in first, crossbow ready, while you followed him lighting the inside of the store with your lantern. The place was a mess, it had obviously been scavenged before and everything that hadn’t been taken from the shelves was littering the floor…nothing useful though.

“Alright, I think we’re clear,” Daryl said when no other walker showed up and you couldn’t hear any noise. “Don’t get far.”

“This place’s too small for that anyway.”

It was a single corridor, rather small, and what you guessed was a backroom behind the counter. You made your way to the fridge, which unsurprisingly was almost empty too. Some rotten premade sandwiches and a couple cans of cheap beer was all you could find, beside some precooked meals. You took one but the quality was questionable, it might not look rotten like the sandwiches but you thought it was more than probable that they were bad too. With a disappointed sigh, you decided not to take them, afraid it’d end up poisoning you.

“I hope Glenn and Maggie are having more luck…did you find anything?” You asked Daryl, who was behind the counter.

“Nah. Just money.”

“Just money…that’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear…” You said and Daryl chuckled quietly.

There were some magazines on the floor and you began picking some of them at random and stuffing them inside your bag, maybe somebody’d like to read them, take their mind off your less than ideal life for a bit, have something to do during some of those tedious evenings.

Daryl raised his eyebrows at you at that.

“What, we don’t have books or nothing, I thought people might like them.” You said. “But alright, I guess you won’t be asking me if I can lend you this…” You teased, picking one about motorbikes and waving it in front of him.” Guess I won’t take it, I don’t have that much room left.” You were already stuffing it inside your mostly empty bag.

Daryl said nothing, just gave you a smirk, getting a gun he seemed to have found somewhere behind the counter inside his bag. He tried the handler of the door of the back room but it was looked.

“Maybe we’ll find something better there,” you said, trying to stay hopeful.

“See if you can find the key,” Daryl told you and you both began rummaging through the counter again. “It can’t be this one…wouldn’t fit.” He showed you a tiny, old key he had found.

“Oh, it’s so lovely!”

You squealed and Daryl looked at you weird. You blushed in embarrassment and rushed to explain yourself, though you weren’t sure if you weren’t just about to embarrass yourself even more.

“When I was a little girl my grandmother used to have a lot of really, really old keys, from her old house and furniture at the village where she used to live, I thought all those keys were beautiful, kind of magical you know, being that old, I thought they had to open a lot of secrets…” You began explaining, fidgeting and half expecting Daryl’d laugh at you for being so silly and think like that about simple keys, but he seemed to be genuinely interested in what you were saying.

“So eventually my grandmother gave them to me before she passed and  I began collecting old keys, had quite a good collection…” You smiled a bit melancholic at the memories, you hadn’t thought about it for years, and you felt your heart ache when you thought about your missing family.

You swallowed hard, trying to stop your emotions from showing, not wanting to embarrass yourself more. Daryl seemed to notice, though, because he reached out to squeeze your arm softly, and you gave him a small smile before you kept talking.

“Anyway, I left them at my parent’s home when I got married and moved, I thought a couple times about going to get them and keep the collection or start a new one, but my husband said it was stupid cos you know, they’re just keys, a waste of space…I too know it’s a silly thing…” You shrugged, giving Daryl an embarrassed smile, but his face was serious. “But I think I have enough authority on keys to say that tiny one is quite a lovely one.” You awkwardly joked.

Daryl was frowning at the key and then he passed it to you.

“Take it if you like it.”

“No, I know it’s silly…” You said softly, twirling the key. “Gonna see if I can find what it opens, though.”

“Gonna try picking the lock.”

While Daryl worked on that you looked around the counter again until you found a small metal box half hidden in a drawer. You tried the key and it worked but there was nothing you could consider useful inside, just some handwritten letters, a couple of old pictures, tickets from the cinema…someone’s life memories. It made you feel melancholic again.

You closed it carefully and went to join Daryl, who was still fighting against the lock until you heard a click.

“Alright…”

“Do you think there are no walkers inside?” You asked worriedly before he could open the door.

“Nah, they’d be banging the door at the noise.”

Turned out the room was so small only one of you could get in, but inside Daryl found stored a couple of cans of gasoline.

“Ricks gonna like this,” Hel said, finally giving you a full smile.

“Are we ready?”

“I’m gonna give the place a last scoop, go out and see if Glenn and Maggie are ready too.

You frowned at him, you two had already combed the tiny place, but nodded and followed his instructions, walking out just in time to see Glenn and Maggie walking out the other store. You waved to them and they began walking to the main building but you wanted to wait for Daryl before joining them. He was out after not even a minute.

“Alright, come on,” he said, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the others as you stepped through charred walkers again.

“Did you find something useful?” You asked hopefully to Maggie and Glenn.

“Well…I got a bag full of candy.” Glenn showed you a plastic bag with different kinds of candies in it. “But I think they’re questionable��I thought it’d make Carl happy, though.”

“And my sister, probably.” Maggie smiled fondly.

“They make me happy too.” You chuckled. “I call dibs on that toffees.”

“Also a couple cheap sunglasses…” Maggie showed you the neon pink and yellow sunglasses that none had bothered taking already. “This couple of scarves…” Those were less hideous. “And I picked up some books so we can have something to read.”

“I picked up magazines too!” You said, looking pointedly at Daryl, who smirked. “I got one about babies for Lori, I’m not sure if she’ll like it or if she’ll throw it to my head…”

All in all, your haul didn’t seem that impressive and you were a little disappointed.

“This’s normal, sometimes we come from runs empty-handed, I know it’s frustrating,” Glenn told you. “But we still have to scoop that area.”

The door was locked from the outside with several metal bars, to keep the walkers inside, you guessed, you could already hear them banging the doors, and you helped the others remove the bars though you were quite unsure about how to deal with the monsters inside. You trusted the others knew what to do, though.

They stopped when there was only a bar left and you recoiled as the door shook dangerously under the pushes of the monsters.

“Alright…you two push the door close and try to let it open just a little, so only a walker can poke its head out and I put them down one by one,” Maggie instructed, talking to Glenn and Daryl. “What do you want to do? Push the door or help me with the walkers?” She turned to you.

“I…I don’t know.” You shrugged helplessly. “You sure about this? What if they can’t hold the door and all the walkers get outside at the same time, they’d all fall on you.”

“We have done it before, it’ll be fine,” Glenn reassured you, though you were still rather uncertain.

“Alright…” Maggie was looking at you as if in deep thought. “You get behind with your gun in case more walkers get out and we can’t handle it, you put down the most you can.”

You nodded though you feel a bit unsure about shooting walkers in such proximity to your friends, afraid of missing and hitting one of them instead.

“Pitty I can’t use your crossbow, it’d be silent.” You told Daryl while he got ready for his part of the plan.

Luckily, you didn’t need to shot as the others carried on with the plan without accidents, Glenn and Daryl pushing the door so only one or two walkers could get their heads through it, only to have Maggie putting them down as they did. You couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place, but you shook off the feeling.

The area was big, with some corpses on the floor, and it was full of tables, more corpses sitting down or lying on them, some half eaten, and you wondered how they had died, most seeming to have been shot on the head.

To the left there seemed to be the kitchen and bar area and to the right, there was a staircase.

“What do you think there’s on the other floor?” You asked quietly and Maggie shrugged.

“More tables? What if Glenn and I go check it and you two scoop this floor, we can go to the kitchen together later.”

You all nodded and while Glenn and Maggie made their way to the stairs, Daryl placed a hand on your shoulder to guide you with him.

“Wait, why don’t you go to the bar and I go through the tables, see if I can find something useful?” You told him.

“You sure?” He looked at you uncertain.

“They’re all dead right?” You pointed at the corpses. “Doesn’t seem to be any walker around…I can do it.”

Daryl seemed to think it for a bit, seeming unsure, but finally nodded. “Don’t stray, stay where I can see you.”

“Sure thing.”

A couple of the corpses had suitcases and big bags with them, and you began rummaging through them, trying not to think much about going through dead people’s stuff. You got some very basic first aid kits and some hygiene products that you were sure everyone would appreciate and then began to chose the clothes that you thought would be the most useful and would suit the most of you.

You were a bit startled when you heard some growling and you turned around to see a walker coming from the corridor that led to the bathrooms.

“Got it.” You told Daryl, as loud as you dared, so he wouldn’t worry too much and kept scavenging through the bar. You grabbed the walker roughly and sank your knife into its head.

There were some more growling and you saw another one coming from down the corridor, so you went to put it down too.

“Y/N,” You heard Daryl’s voice coming from the main area as you turned the corner of the corridor. “Stay here.”

“It’s okay, there’s only one more, it’s fine.”

You assured, already reaching out to grab it by the neck. When it struggled, though, part of the skin and part of the meat came off, making your hand slip and sink into the disgusting goo. You barely had time to feel disgusted by it, as the monster’s hands grabbed you and it snapped at you.

You didn’t quite manage to get a good hold of it and not knowing what else to do, you lifted your machete and hit it as hard as you could into the monster’s forehead, sinking it in. There was a sickening crack but the walker stopped moving, your knife reaching the brain.

From the corner of your eye, you saw another one stumbling to you and panic rushed through you when you tried to yank back your knife and you couldn’t, the hit seemed to have embedded it too deep into the skull and it was stuck.

Panicking, you stepped on the corpse to hold it down while you yanked at your knife until the other walker was on you. You grabbed its wrist, struggling to keep its claws away, recoiling as it began to snap and try to bit you, until your back hit the wall.

You tried to push it away but it was strong, you were grunting at the effort of stopping its hands from grabbing you while dodging its snaps, your brain working at full speed as you tried to  think how to end it, trying not to let your anxiety overcome you as it screamed to you that this was your end.

No matter how much you pushed it back, the walker wouldn’t relent, neither as you tried hitting his stomach with your knee, hard as you tried you weren’t managing to overpower it and you couldn’t think og a way of getting away from it and killing it without any weapon.

“Y/N!”

Suddenly the walker stopped struggling and fell on you, pushing you against the wall. You pushed it hard away from you and when it fell on the floor you realized it was dead with an arrow in his head.

You looked up and saw Daryl rushing to you, grabbing your arms when he reached you.

“Are you okay? It didn’t bit you, did it?” He asked frantically and you shook your head, finding it hard to speak. “I told you not to stray!”

“I’m sorry…” You said weakly, guilty tears threatening to fall down your eyes.

“It’s okay.” Daryl let out a sigh and pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggled to him, burying your face on his chest.

“Thanks.” You whispered, slowly calming down, and you felt his lips on your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?! What happened?!”

You heard Maggie’s panicked voice, she and Glenn seemed to have heard the commotion and they had rushed down, running to you and looking from the walkers to you and Daryl, who pulled away from you.

“I’m okay.”  You assured though you were still shaking and Maggie held you tight as you told her about the walkers you had encountered.

“You put them down?” She asked you.

“Just those two, Daryl killed that one, he saved me, my knife got stuck…” You explained, ashamed, even though nobody seemed to be blaming you for anything, they just seemed worried.

“How you managed to get it so stuck?” Glenn asked, trying to pull your machete out the walker’s skull, tanking him a few times until he managed, and you shrugged helplessly.

Back in the main area, you felt a bit better and less useless as you showed the others the stuff you had gotten from the suitcases.  Together you made your way into the kitchen, which was big and thankfully free of walkers. It took you all a bit of scooping around but finally, you managed to find a few cans of food and some dried vegetables that you hoped had been well preserved inside their hermetic packages.

“I’d say this had been quite a good run,” Glenn said cheerfully as you all got your haul into the car. “Food, gas, medical and hygiene supplies…we’ll be good for a bit.”

“Yeah,” Maggie wrapped an arm around your shoulders, noticing you weren’t as happy, you were still berating yourself for what had happened with the walkers. “Let’s go back to the camp.”

--

Well, it could have been worse, couldn’t it? Next chapter, we’ll see if those candies are edible...and we’ll see more talks between reader and Daryl. I’m sorry if some of you feel this story is moving slow, but I really enjoyed writing it like that.

Thank you all for reading! If you have time, please drop me a comment and let me know your thoughts about this!

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[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

Full Throttle part 5

Words: 1797 Warnings: Mentions of a fire, break in, scared reader A/N: This chapter ran away from me a little bit, but I’m mostly happy with how it turned out. Thank you so much @bookscoffeeandracoons for being my sounding board for my ideas for this chapter, you’re a rock star! If anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters/works feel free to send me an ask and please leave feedback/reblogs.

For the next few days, Steve and Bucky are my constant companions. And if they can't be there, it's one of the people from the club. It was nearing month-end and I had a mountain of paperwork to get ready so everyone would get paid on time. Despite the boys' objections that Doctor Strange hadn't cleared me to go back to work yet, I still went in on Saturday morning.

"So the guys were talking about having a cookout this afternoon and they were all adamant that you join us," Bucky said as he drank a lemonade. The three of us sat at the bar, the boys each with lemonade, and me with stacks of paperwork, while Ashley, my manager, did a stocktake.

"Sam practically begged me, apparently you promised to show him how to mix your famous Long Island Iced Tea," Steve nods along.

"Well now, I wouldn't want to disappoint Sam. Goodness knows I can't resist those puppy eyes he makes," I grin mischievously before bursting into giggles at the deadpan look on both men's faces.

"Viscous," Ashley grins, extending her hand for a high-five.

"You know it, babe," my hand meets hers across the bar top.

After another hour I'm finally caught up with all my work and hop off the seat, adjusting my top. I'd gone with black denim cut-offs, black ankle boots, and a white tank top with my hair thrown into a high ponytail. "Done! Now I just have to go put all of this in the office," I say.

"Oh no, you don't! I'll put these in the office, you have a cookout to get to," Ashley says with a grin as she takes the files from my hands.

"Well alright then, I guess I'll see you on Monday. Shall we go?" I turn to the boys who each link their arms with mine and we skip out the door.

Since we had to pick up some things to take to the clubhouse, we had gone with Steve's jeep. After picking up the wood, ice, drinks, and stuff for s'mores, we made our way to the clubhouse. Everyone else was already there and I'm immediately swept up into hugs as I make my way to the back porch.

"There's my favorite girl!" Sam exclaims as he swoops in for his signature bearhugs.

"Hey, Sammy! I brought everything to show you how to make a proper LIT. I hope you're prepared to eat your words!" I laugh as he sets me back onto my feet.

"Well, why don't we go into the kitchen and you can put your money where your mouth is!" Sam guffaws as he leads me back into the house while Steve and Bucky roll their eyes playfully.

After whipping up a few jugs full and pouring a glass for Sam, I lean back against the counter and watch as he takes the first sip, eyes widening at the taste. "Damn girl! You really know how to mix a mean LIT!"

"I told you so! Time to pay up Wilson," I laugh, holding out my hand. Sam places an extra large packet of wine gums in my palm. "Oh, victory is sweet!  You boys want some?" I hold the packet out to Steve and Bucky.

The rest of the afternoon is spent eating, drinking and relaxing with my new friends. As the sun starts dipping towards the horizon my phone goes off. I fish it from my pocket to see Ashley's name flashing across the screen.

"Hey, Ash. What's going on?" I ask, slightly confused, she never calls unless something's wrong.

"Y/N, please come quick. Bar...fire...so scared..." she had started cutting out so I could only hear certain words, but they chilled me to the bone.

"Ashley, I need you to take a deep breath and stay calm, I'm on my way," I tell her, even though I am anything but calm right now.

Steve must have seen my expression because he comes jogging towards me, concern written all over his face. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks as he reaches my side.

"There was a fire at the bar, I have to go make sure everything's alright," I say hurriedly as I head inside.

"You can't drive in your current state, I'll take you," he says as he goes to fetch his keys.

As he comes back Bucky approaches. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"There was a fire at the bar, I'm taking Y/N to go make sure everything's okay," Steve explains.

"I'm coming with you," Bucky states, already making his way out to the jeep.

The entire ride there my hands are shaking as I go through every possible scenario as to how this happened while Bucky rubs soothing circles onto my back and Steve's hand rests on my knee. When we get there, I scramble out, looking among the ambulances and firetrucks until I find Ashley; she's sitting on the back of an ambulance, blanket wrapped around her shoulders and an oxygen mask on her face. "Ash!" I cry out as I rush towards her, giving her a tight hug.

She takes off the mask and embraces me tightly. "I'm so sorry Y/N, I had no idea this would happen, this is all my fault, please forgive me," Ashley says in a rush.

I take a step back, confused. "Hang on, Ash, what happened to make you think this was your fault? Tell me everything from the beginning," I say as we sit back down on the ambulance, Steve and Bucky standing nearby.

Ashley takes a deep breath before speaking. "About an hour after you left, Brian showed up. He demanded to see you but I told him you weren't there. He asked where you were and I told him he could go jump off a cliff before I told him anything. He got angry and said that if he couldn't get to you, he'd make you go to him before he stormed out. I didn't think anything of it until we hit happy hour, then I started smelling smoke. It got worse and worse and the heat built. I only then realized the storeroom was on fire. I got everyone out in time, but a lot of the building is ruined. I'm so sorry Y/N," Ashley sobs.

I gently hug her. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about Ash. You didn't know how far unhinged he is. I'm sorry you got caught in his crossfire. I promise I'm going to do whatever I can to put him away. In the meantime, I'm closing the bar. We'll need to anyway until the investigation is over and whatever got trashed can be replaced. Don't worry, I'll still pay you. This was not your fault," I say gently.

After talking to the police and giving my statement the boys suggested that it might be better if I spent the night at the clubhouse. I was too scared and tired to argue so I let Steve drive us to my apartment to get some clothes and toiletries. As we pulled up to the building, I couldn't help the ball of nerves that was my stomach.

Both men got out and walked with me up the stairs. When we got to my door I inserted my key and turned. The door swung open with a soft 'click' and we walked in, flicking on the lights. What I saw made me stop dead in my tracks. The window was broken, glass littering the floor, furniture upturned and thrown about. But what really scared me was the large red letters on the walls: "Hail Hydra", "This is only the beginning", "Stay away from Rogers and Barnes", and lastly, "You'll always be mine"

My knees started buckling under me but before I could hit the floor I felt arms wrapping around me, Bucky's familiar scent cocooning me in safety and comfort. I was vaguely aware of Steve talking to someone on the phone, but I couldn't care enough to pay attention.

I did, however, notice when he came to stand in front of me, his large frame blocking out the messages and his warm hands caressing my face. "The guys are on their way, we're gonna take care of this, we're gonna keep you safe, I promise. Why don't you and Buck go wait in the car and I'll pack a bag with your stuff, okay?" I can tell that Steve is struggling to keep his emotions in check so I nod and let Bucky lead me out of the building.

Once we're back in the jeep, Bucky shoves his seat back as far as it will go and lets me clamber into his arms, holding me to his chest and playing with my hair, knowing we both need it to calm down.

Five minutes later Steve is back in the jeep, my bag was thrown onto the back seat, and he was speeding down dark, empty streets. He is silent until we reach the house. Once we're inside, he shows me to a room where I can change while he makes something to drink.

I change into a pair of warm sweats and a blue long-sleeved top before going in search of the boys. They're in the lounge, sitting with cups of cocoa and conversing softly. I make my way over to them and sit down in the middle.

They both wrap a warm, comforting arm around me as I take a sip from the cup Bucky hands me. We sit in quiet contemplation for a while as everything that happened over the last few hours begins to sink in.

"How are you feeling?" Buck asks quietly.

"Like reality just hit me in the face with a shovel," I shrug my shoulders as I lean into their comforting touch. My body starts to shake violently as tears slowly make their way down my face.

"Everything's going to be alright. I promise we're going to take good care of you and protect you. We'll do everything in our power to keep you, safe sweetheart," Steve murmurs, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head.

"Yeah doll, no one will ever think to harm you while me and Stevie are around. They'd be human-sized pretzels for even thinking about it," Bucky agrees, kissing my cheek softly.

"W-will you guys stay with me tonight? Please?" I know I sound pathetic and whiny, but right now I could care less. I just need to feel safe in their arms.

"Of course doll," Bucky reasures me.

"We'll stay for as long as you want us, sweetheart," Steve chimes in.

Things might be falling apart all around us, but I know that at least for tonight we have each other, and that's all I really need.

Tags:

@mcdesij @spiderrrling @arrow-guy @interestedbystanderwrites @caplansteverogers @gwendelerynan @lukebalehiddleston @here2have-fun @bvckys-doll @bookscoffeeandracoons @bambamwolf87 @loricameback @rockrchick51 @love-nakamura @moisoverennyi-thestarlessone @baebeepeach @timelordy-fangirl2 @jewelofwinter

#full throttle #marvel

[trivialqueen]

39. Hero

{Here’s the next section of that original story. Still currently, and creatively called, Hospital Romance Drama. As always, I’m neither a doctor, nor British.  I’m just a girl who fancies herself a writer and likes slow burns, smart women, and tall men.}

“No, not to be so odd and from all fashions As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable: But who dare tell her so? If I should speak, She would mock me into air; O, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire, Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly: It were a better death than die with mocks, Which is as bad as die with tickling.” Sofia Grace stopped so abruptly she almost spilled her flat white. As it was the jarring motion broke the perfect little heart Helen had made with the milk. Slowly she approached, just to confirm what she was fairly certain she was hearing. It sounded like Magnusson, baritone with just a hint of Scandinavian coloring his otherwise impeccable English. It sounded just exactly like Director of Surgery Felix Magnusson reading the part of Hero from Much Ado About Nothing.

“Yet tell her of it: hear what she will say.” A younger voice replied. Sitting up in her hospital bed was a young woman, maybe sixteen. She was focusing very intently on reciting from memory her lines.  Beside her sat Felix, glasses perched on his patrician nose which was firmly wedged in a tatty script copy of the Bard’s comedy.

“No; rather I will go to Benedick And counsel him to fight against his passion. And, truly, I'll devise some honest slanders To stain my cousin with: one doth not know How much an ill word may empoison liking.” Magnusson read. He made no effort to change his voice in any way – adopt an accent or sound more feminine. Sofia couldn’t decide if that was better or not. She couldn’t imagine the man adopting a falsetto and yet just thinking about it she desperately wished he had. She honestly also wouldn’t have imagined him sitting in the middle of his day with one of his patients to help her memorize lines either. And yet here he was.

“Line?” The girl had sat quietly for a few moments, staring hard into the middle distance.

“You know it, just try.” Felix looked up at the young woman, his tone encouraging. There was something different about his voice. About him. It was the same gentleness he’d shown Addie, a sort of parental mien that occasionally popped out in unexpected places. He was capable of patience, of kindness, of all the fatherly virtues. Just not when it came to anyone he worked with. Tamara had been crying in the bathroom on Harvey earlier. She didn’t even want to cry in the bathroom on Irene, just in case. Tamara had only been out of school a few months and literally looked like she was twelve. One would think such a combination would bring fatherly Felix to the fore. That was, however, not the case, apparently.

“She cannot be so much without true judgement--” the girl began. Felix clicked his tongue.

“Not quite. The line begins, ‘Oh, do not do your cousin such a wrong’.”

“Got it.” The girl gave a decisive nod. “O, do not do your cousin such a wrong. She cannot be so much without true judgment-- Having so swift and excellent a wit as she is prized to have--as to refuse So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick.”

“Very good.” He returned his attention to the script. “He is the only man of Italy. Always excepted my dear Claudio.”

           And so they continued, ‘Ursula’ reciting from memory and Magnusson correcting her as necessary. It was not a good performance by any means, both were too flat for that and the setting left something to be desired, even by ‘random adaptations of Shakespeare’ standards. Nonetheless Sofia felt not great urge to interrupt them. Nor was she ready to walk away either. In the midafternoon sun and the overhead light Magnusson looked relaxed, almost charming. The rays glinted off the slight red gold undertone in his curls. He must’ve run his hands through his hair recently, and frequently, it was not as tamed as it usually was. The gel was broken up and his hair was almost Byronic. Adding to the image of the hero, his aubergine colored tie was slightly loosened and the top button of his pale blue dress shirt was undone.

“… I'll show thee some attires and have thy counsel Which is the best to furnish me to-morrow.” His fingers were long and slender sprawled across the cover of the script. In another context one might say he had musicians’ hands.

“She's limed, I warrant you: we have caught her, madam.” ‘Ursula’ looked up from her middle-distance staring and caught her watching. She colored brightly, her ears turning scarlet under her mop of professionally caramel colored hair.

“If it proves so, then loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.” Magnusson did not notice her, nor his patient’s embarrassment and finished the dialogue as evenly before. He slid his glasses off his nose and into his pocket. He looked up to ‘Ursula’ and then followed her gaze to Sofia Grace. Their eyes met and she could see his ears tint, yet he arched a brow as if challenging her to say something.

“What fire is in mine ears?” Ms. Hale was smirking, her cayenne lips twisting smugly and her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Ms. Hale.” He shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but her eyes pinned him.

“Go on!” Bridget chirped. She’d gone from embarrassed to intrigued in seconds. Ms. Hale smiled brightly.

“Can this be true? Stand I condemned for pride and scorn so much?” She had the delivery of a thespian, which he was hardly surprised. Her every day comportment was dramatic, why should she be anything less than theatrical when actually reciting Shakespeare. “Ummm…” And then she paused. Looked thoughtful for a moment. And sipped her coffee to buy some time. Being lefthanded logos on mugs never faced out when she drank out of them, but he could tell it was her Wonder Woman mug. As far as Felix could tell she didn’t own any other mugs. “Contempt, farewell! And maiden pride, adieu! And that’s all I can remember.” She gave a charming shrug.

“No glory lives behind the backs of such.” The script was still open loosely in his hand, so it was easy to check Beatrice’s next line. She stared at him for a moment and he read on, “And Benedick, love on-”

“I will requite thee!” She jumped in, clearly her memory jogged. “Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand: If thou love, my kindness shall incite thee to bind our loves in a holy band; for others say thou dost deserve, and I believe it better than reportingly! HA! Nailed it.” She exclaimed with a fist pump.

“Ah! Not quite.”

“What?” Both surgeon and student stared at him.

“If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee to bind our loves up in a holy band…”

“Oh, come on! After twenty years you’re going to ding me on two words? The spirit is the same!”

“Let’s apply to the director then.” Bridget looked between them both.

“I’d say that’s good enough after …twenty years?!” Ms. Hale gave him a cheeky smile over the rim of her coffee mug.

“I know, right?!” She preened.

“It seems like it should be longer ago, doesn’t it?”

“Hey!” Bridget dissolved into peels of laughter. Felix could feel the smile spread across his lips. It was perhaps not the best dig, but it was so perfectly set up. “Just because you’re jealous of my theatrical chops-”

“I would have you know that I made a fine Thespian in the sixth form.”

“Who were you? The messenger boy?”

“Sir Andrew Aguecheek.” Ms. Hale visibly chocked on her coffee. He couldn’t blame her; it was not the role he’d have cast himself in either. But Aguecheek was supposed to be a ridiculous man and at sixteen he had been all arms and legs and knobby, awkward angles.

“WHAT?” She chocked, thumping herself in the chest like it might help. “Was this one of those instances that it was for a class and they had to cast everyone, even if it meant combining or breaking up parts to get the right numbers?” It had been for class credit, but he would never admit that. Instead he stood and handed the script back.

“Bridget, if you need further help with your lines, I think it’s obvious who you should ask.”

“You’ve been a big help, Mr. M.”

“You haven’t forgotten our three o’clock appointment I see.” Magnusson commented as he keyed in the five-digit code to his office door.

“How could I, you’re in check!”

“Not for much longer, Ms. Hale. Not for very much longer.” They had been at this particular match for the last three weeks, ever since the machines incident and her opening move. A normal chess match should not take so long, however, they had yet to play even fifteen minutes in a single sitting. Emergencies had no concept of time so even with all the planning, getting to be in the same room at the same time was difficult. She hadn’t even realized she’d put him in check until later, she’d been distracted by her pager when she’d made the move. (Not that she’d admit that to him).

She follows him into his office, it is more familiar to her now, almost as familiar as it was when Charlotte was DOS. Over the course of their several chess moves (it’s hard to call them matches when they don’t even last as long as a cup of coffee sometimes) she and he have developed a routine. Upon entering his office he would immediately turn on the hot water kettle he kept in a discreet corner by his desk, he would then empty his pockets, carefully placing his cellphone on his desk, and then he would bring his tea set to the table. Magnusson took his fancy leaf water quite seriously, carefully choosing the tea he wanted from a selection of loose-leaf options, measuring it out precisely into the teapot, and occasionally going so far as to get up and adjust the water temperature on the kettle. The tea set would always include the tea pot, a single cup and saucer and a 350gram jar with three beautiful biscuits in it. And not the store-bought kind either, biscuits clearly made by an individual.

While Magnusson carefully matched his tea to whatever sweet treat he’d brought with him that day (florentines with Darjeeling, palmiers and chamomile, shortbread with earl grey, gingerbread and lemon tea) Sofia Grace would kick off her heels and snoop examine his artwork. All of the photos on his walls were signed works, the vast majority taken by an Ingrid Karpe. He had a small collection of sculptures as well, all contemporary looking and rather abstract, although the one on his desk was clearly a fish. Just like the photo on his desk was clearly his son. Magnusson would never say anything as she examined his small gallery, but she was aware that he was aware of where she was looking. If he wouldn’t offer, she wouldn’t ask, even if it did pique her curiosity – why did so many of the photos have seemingly the same subject? Where was that dark-haired little boy now?

Eventually, when it looked like Magnusson’s little tea ritual was nearly finished Sofia Grace would return to the sofa, curling into one of the corners, her bare feet tucked up under her as she’d lean on the arm. Rather than face off against one another over the small conference table in his office he moved his chessboard to the end table between them. He stopped offering her tea early on, since she always brought her coffee. And so coffee versus tea, black versus white faced off. She would accept his biscuits, however.

“Is that a bakery digestive biscuit?” It was. A lightly brown, crunchy-tender semi-sweet meal biscuit. It was thicker than the digestives from the store, but it was unmistakable. “Holy shit, I didn’t know you could actually makethese. You have got to give me the name of your bakery.”

“I’m allowed to have some secrets.”

“Oh, come on.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He gave her a smug smile over the rim of his tea. It was the sort of expression that told her he wouldn’t pressed further. At least not at the moment.

“You’ve acquired a new nickname.” They had settled into the game, digestives devoured. Magnusson had deftly saved his king for checkmate and they were now back to a nearly cat game. During her yearlong recovery she had had nothing to do but play lots of chess, learn German, and read many, many trashy romance novels. Sofia Grace knew she was good at chess, but Magnuson was something else entirely. (Not that she’d ever tell him that).

“If you going to try to get people to call me Sir Andrew Aguecheek, I’m going to have to draw a line.”

“Ooo, I hadn’t thought of that! Brilliant!” Her eyes sparkled at him, like stars dancing. It was perhaps the first time those dark eyes sparkled at him. He had seen them sparkle before, for others. But at him they only ever spat fire, or at best, flinty sparks. And now they were sparkling for him. The sight whipped through him like the first cold wind of winter – he was completely unprepared; his breath caught; senses tingled. He could feel it cut through him to the very core.

“Don’t you dare.” He felt slight pride in being able to speak like he was unaffected. Ms. Hale’s white knight retreated slightly, smartly. She smiled.

“In addition to Sir Andrew Aguecheek, you’ve acquired a new nickname.” After thoughtful deliberation he moved his bishop to C4. Felix had expected her to be as rash a chess player as she was a person. He’d heard tell that she’d once incited an abusive husband of a patient to punch her in the face in the middle of the hall so there was more concrete evidence pointing to his violent temper and to buy time for the man’s partner to finish giving their statement to the police. She had absolutely no sense of self-preservation, as far as he could tell. And yet when she played chess, her moves were anything but impulsive. He had expected this game to be over by now, but she had surprised him as an opponent.

“Don’t people have better things to do?”

“It wouldn’t be a hospital without gossip.” Her quip was only halfhearted as she studied the board. He sipped his tea and waited – for either her move or his apparent new nickname, whichever came first.

“Well, what is it?” She’d studied the board for what felt like an hour before she carefully moved her pawn. “It can’t be worse than ‘Björn the Slasher’…” A few of his monikers had made their way to his ears. None of them were good – they were both disdainful as well as lazy and stupid. A smörgåsbord of Swedish stereotypes peppered with some tortured reference to his height.

“That one’s hilarious.”

“It makes me sound like a camp horror villain.” She gave him a look over her mug that clearly said, ‘well, aren’t you?’ “If you’re going to tell me about ‘Fucking Felix’, I’m aware.” Alliterative, yes, creative, no.

“That’s hardly a nickname and more a general reaction whenever we have to work with you.” He stared blankly at her, for want of a response – other than to note that their colleagues were more than a little dramatic.

“Well what is it then? Is it the abominable snow man? The Snow King, perhaps? The Ice Giant? Felix the Herring? Hurdy Gurdy – which I really don’t get by the way. Dr. No perhaps?” And then there were the more hurtful ones like Dr. Death or the Angel of Death. But it was truly ridiculous the names he’d been called in the short time he’d been at Saint Sebastian’s.

“Don’t forget the good humor man.” She added brightly. Ah, non-literary irony. He thought sarcastically. They lapsed into temporary silence as they studied the board.

“Doctor Damocles.” Ms. Hale said after carefully removing his captured pawn from the board. It made him start.

“Dr. Damocles – That doesn’t even make sense!” He was well familiar with Damocles, the obsequious courtier of Dionysius II of Syracuse and the moral anecdote about him.

“You’re the harbinger of impending doom! Looming about, threatening everyone’s job, scaring people half to death. You’ve made five people cry since you’ve gotten here – three F1s, two F2s, plus Tamara Aquilarios just this morning!” Ah, that interpretation of the tale, he remembered it well – and paid dearly for it. Just listening he could feel the sting of his father’s hand across his cheek. His first summer home from boarding school his father had insisted that rather than make noise around the house he dedicate his time to something useful and worthwhile – translating all five books of the Tusculanae Disputationes. Every night his father had marked his translations. There had been no room for error. There was never allowed any room for error. It was one of his earliest lessons.

“But that’s not the point of the parable at all. The sword doesn’t just represent, oh, something terrible is going to happen, but it’s about realizing that what looks like an enviable life – a life of wealth, power, and luxury is, in fact, fraught with anxiety, terror, and possibly death.” She stared at him blankly for a long moment.

“God, you really are an insufferable pedant, aren’t you?”

“I’m just saying, the nickname is fundamentally wrong.”

“This would be why we call you ‘Fucking Felix’.” He had nothing to say to that and so he returned his focus entirely to the pieces on the board and his mostly consumed cup of breakfast blend (a choice he made as it complimented his biscuits, ignoring the fact it was after three o’clock). For a move they were both quiet. Focused.

Ms. Hale licked her cayenne lips, they were slightly faded, the color having transferred from full mouth to the rim of her mug in a distinctive kiss, making the cup as hers more than the motif on the outside could. There was some intimacy in seeing her without that flawless signature color, even if it was a fleeting moment before she touched it up and returned about her day.

He was distracted by the red bow of her mouth rather than listening to the words coming out of it.

“But seriously,” She was saying, “we can’t go on like the anymore. The cuts, the redundancies. Everyone in this hospital is running scared. You can’t run a hospital like it’s some company, we’re here to make people better, for God’s sake, not turn a profit.”

“You know that the hospital is not a for profit company, and I know that the hospital is not a for profit company,” She looked at him skeptically, both forgetting the chess match for a little while. “But it has been made abundantly clear to me that the Foundation Trust board does not care. They are interested in seeing healthy profit margins, strong financials in general, efficient staff, and an impeccable reputation. The austere, and only the austere, will survive.”

“Making nurses cry, terrorizing the staff, you think this is going to make Saint Sebastian’s a better hospital, this is how we achieve FT status?”

“Ensuring that the staff are fulfilling their roles and obligations, that nurses are performing proper procedures and tests and running effective bed checks will go a long way toward our Foundation Trust application, particularly since Sir Stewart Frazier, Angus Black, Tristan Guy will be looking over our shoulders for the foreseeable future. They start their on grounds audit Monday.”

Sofia Grace felt herself choke on air. Monday?! The audit starts Monday?!

“The audit starts next week, and you didn’t think to tell us yet?” She was incredulous.

“I myself did not know until this afternoon when Sir Stewart called me.”

“And you decided to read Shakespeare and play chess rather than inform us of this?!” Magnusson sat his teacup down on the table, she momentarily worried that it would have broken, the thud was so heavy sounding.

“I am not one to just fire off emails, saying whatever it is I’m feeling as I feel it. I think before I speak, and in this case, I wanted to think quite carefully about what I should put in such an email. Rest assured, there will be notification by the end of the day regarding this development.”

“You can’t just keep secrets from us!”

“I am hardly keeping this a secret.” His tone was as frosty as Lappland. “Everyone will know by the end of the day, once I have time to sit down and draft the email. Didn’t I ask you to have some faith in me?” She opened her mouth to protest, it was hardly a lack of faith when he literally said he would inform people when he felt like it. He cut off her retort, however. “Regarding Nurse Aquilarios, on the topic of having some faith in me, did you bother to find out the context in which I apparently made her cry?” His delivery was nothing like any rant she was familiar with, certainly nothing like her own style which built and built and built until she exploded like a steam engine without a valve. Instead he was cold, even, and brooking no interruption. “I asked her why a patient hadn’t had a pregnancy test performed. She had skipped the routine procedure in order to save time and because the patient had said they were not pregnant. It’s how she has been able to get such good bed check times. It turns out the patient was actually pregnant, which of course meant an entirely different treatment plan.”

“Your asking had her in tears in the women’s loo! She’s only been out of school six months you know.” Ah, to be young. She wouldn’t do it again for a million dollars. Tamara was maybe 23. It seemed so long ago now but the fear was something she’d ever forget.

“Then it should be fresher in her mind than others that routine procedures become routine for a reason: they serve important purposes and it’s not for us to arbitrarily decide what really is or isn’t important.”

“She’s a good kid, cut her some slack.” Sofia Grace was still skeptical about his just “asking” Tamara rather than yelling at her – the young nurse had been a mess of runny mascara when she had stumbled upon her in the toilet, but she was inclined to agree with Magnusson on the general point. Running a pregnancy test on anyone with a uterus was an important habit to have. There were a surprising number of otherwise competent people who nevertheless weren’t 100% up to date or correct about their current health or health history.

“She has all the makings of an excellent nurse, if she could master the basics of routine procedures and confirming what we think we know, rather than assuming or simply taking someone’s word for it.” It was perhaps the nicest thing she’d heard him say about anyone, except for perhaps immediately after she impressed him with her trick to avoid cracking the chest of a young chef to repair their punctured artery.

“Have you considered telling her this?”

“I censure when there is a need to censure and I praise when there is reason to praise. I won’t go out of my way to do either.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to be nice, you know.” Perhaps it would, it was so hard to tell. There were moments. Flashes of kindness in him. And then, well, he made grown men cry. For a long time they just stared at each other, chess match forgotten between them as a battle of wills took all of their strategic thinking. Without his glasses it was easier to see his eyes. They were nice eyes - sable colored, with long, thick dark lashes – the kind mascara companies were forever trying to replicate.

A shrill beep broke the silence – and their eye contact. Both reached for their pagers.

“Schiße.” He was grateful for the interruption, as piercing as it was. Her eyes had stopped dancing and they had taken a hard, flinty expression. They unnerved him, her eyes. He knew they could steal his soul. They were eyes that could lead a man to hell.

“I’ve got to go.” She began putting on her shoes. “Same time tomorrow?” He stood with her. In her smart heels she was still a head shorter than he was. It was noticeable when they stood next to each other, but so easy to forget given the size of her personality.

“I will have to check, there are some meetings for me to attend before the board begins their audit.”

“Well, you have my number.” She gave him a polite smile, her face a mask of professional focus. Once she was out of his office and off to Harvey, he carefully cleaned up the remnants of his tea and then sat heavily at his desk. With a sigh he opened a new message.

Dear Colleagues…

#Hospital Romance Drama #Cait writes #original fiction #Sofia Grace is Chaotic Good chaffing under Lawful Good Rules #I know nothing about Chess #much ado about nothing #Much ado about the Bard

[jjeangrey]

Blame It On Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA agent, and Bucky’s an avenger and a SHIELD agent. You’re both assigned to capture each other. The question is, who’s gonna get who first? Especially when feelings get in the way.

Warnings: Explicit language, angst, mentions of abuse

You woke up and groaned as the sunlight hits your face. You slowly open your eyes and almost fell off the bed as you see a man standing in front of you, crossing his arms.

“God fucking dammit, Adam. I told you a million times to not fucking do that.” You put a pillow on your face and turned around so you wouldn’t be facing him.

“Do what?” He said, acting all innocent. “You drool when you sleep.” He chuckled and you threw the pillow at him. You looked over at your alarm clock: 8 am. Normally, Adam walks into your room and annoys you around 10 am, so it must be pretty important.

You sighed and finally stood up, putting your messy hair in a ponytail. “What do you want, dickhead?” You walk into your bathroom to take a quick shower as Adam leans on the wall outside and waits for you. “Baron wants you. He says it’s urgent.”

“You still refuse to call him ‘dad’ huh?”

“Because he still refuses to act like one.”

“Fair enough.” After a few minutes, you go out wearing just a towel and lingerie underneath and you notice him look away. You subtley smirked. “What does he want me for? It’s supposed to be my day off.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a HYDRA agent. You don’t get day offs.” You chuckled and walked to your wardrobe to change into your normal outfit which is a black leather bodysuit and black leather boots. “Not when i’m HYDRA’s best agent.” He scoffed and sat on your bed, crossing his legs. “Second best, you mean?”

You stopped for a bit because of his comment but shook your head and flipped him off. He laughed and walked over to your door to go out, but he turns around one last time before he completely leaves. “Be fast. You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Tell him, he can fuck off.” He smiled at you and closed the door.

Ever since you were 5, you were taught to kill. Baron Von Strucker took you in after he killed your parents, or to be exact, he made Bucky, aka the Winter Soldier, kill them, and he decided to take you and be your mentor. He made you his top spy, taking down people and stealing informations and documents all around the world.

But when Bucky got out of HYDRA’s brainwashing a few years ago, he made you worse. He and his other top agents trained you to be a literal killing machine, and eventually injected you with the super soldier serum. After that, your only mission was to bring the Winter Soldier back to HYDRA, dead or alive. Of course, you still get other missions, but those are only your side jobs. Your main priority is Barnes, and you train everyday so you can take him down.

After you get dressed, you went outside to go to headquarters, and the other agents greet you, saying “Hail, HYDRA” as you walk. You nod at them and continued on your way, until you’ve reached your destination. You didn’t knock, you just quietly opened the door and entered the room, and you saw a man sitting on a chair, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him.

You cleared your throat and the man immediately turned his attention on you. “Ah, good morning, Y/N. You’re looking extra feisty today.” He said, smirking as he looks at you from head to toe.

“What do you want Baron?” You crossed your arms as you walk closer to his table. “And it better be good. This day was supposed to be my day off.”

He chuckled. “I did promised you one day off work, didn’t I? What were you planning to do, anyway?”

“Oh, I don’t know, live like a normal person for once?”

“That’s pretty much impossible, Y/N.” He shrugged. “But don’t worry, i’ll make this worth your while.” He paused for a second and slid in a file to you. You opened it and it was full of photos of the infamous Winter Soldier, and some of them, he was with his newly-found ‘friends’ Steve, Tony, Natasha and the rest of the avengers team. “It’s time.”

You closed the file and looked at him. “Are—are you sure?”

“Yes. You’ve been training for many years, and I think you are ready to face him.” Baron said as he leaned on his chair, his eyes still focused on you.

“I won’t let you down.” You can’t help but smile. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, to get the man who killed your parents mercilessly. To get HYDRA’s traitor.

“I know you won’t. This is your true purpose, Y/N.” He handed you a key, the key to the weapons room. “I will be assigning other HYDRA agents to look after you too, in case you would need back-up.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “No, no backup. I can handle this. Trust me.” He smirked and winked at you. “That’s my girl, fierce and feisty. I’ll be sending you information on where he is.” He stood up from his chair and ran his fingers through your hair, which gave you chills and flashbacks when you were a teenager and he did horrible things to you. But you immediately pushed the thoughts aside. You don’t wanna focus on the past, you wanna focus on the future. And the future is taking down James Barnes. And this isn’t just about capturing him, after you do that, you were hoping that you can escape, get out of this nightmare of a life and start over.

“Go get him, Y/N. Go get our Winter Soldier and take him down.” Baron whispered on to your ear. You looked at him and slowly nod.

“Hail HYDRA.”

———

On the other side of the world, Fury greeted Bucky with an early briefing, along with the rest of the team. He just got back from a week-long mission with Steve a few hours ago, and he’s very tired. He couldn’t help but accidentally fell asleep, and his head banged on the table. He immediately looked up and he saw everyone staring at him.

“I’m alright.” Bucky said nervously, as he took a deep breath and straighten his back.

“Are you really?” Sam chuckled.

“Looks like someone needs a good night sleep.” Clint joked.

“Give him a break, guys.” Natasha shook his head. “Him and Steve just finished their mission like three hours ago and they haven’t had an actual sleep for a week.”

“Finally, someone who understands.” Steve said and pats you on the back. “It’s fine, bud. Don’t worry about it.”

Fury cleared his throat and everyone’s eyes went towards him. “Now that you’re all done acting like children, maybe you can actually listen now.” He drops a file on the table. “Barnes, you actually play an important role on this.” He looks up at him, all confused. “Why me?” He asked.

“We believe HYDRA has resurfaced again, and this time they’re being more careful.”

Bucky flinched as he heard the word ‘HYDRA’. It’s been a few years since he escaped and were cleaned from all the brainwashing, but somehow, hearing that name always gets under his skin.

“But we believe that someone connected to them has been roaming around New York City.” Fury continued and he pulled a photo that looks like it was from a surveillance camera. It contains a woman, but her face is covered with a scarf, and only her eyes were visible.

“How did you know that woman is somehow connected to HYDRA?” Tony asked.

“Because I’ve seen her before.” Fury pulled out another photo and it was from a mission in Germany a few months ago. A woman was also in that picture wearing a black mask covering her entire face, except her piercing Y/E/C eyes. “She was on that mission in Germany, working for HYDRA. But she wasn’t there to help HYDRA agents take you down, she was there to steal SHIELD files.” Fury pulled out the last photo from the file and there shows the same woman inside one of SHIELD’s facilities, hacking into one of the computers with a hard drive that has a skull on it.

Bucky puts two and two together and he started sweating nervously as he realized something. “What—what files did she take?” Fury closed the file and looks up at him. “Yours.”

“That’s crazy. What did she want with Bucky’s files?” Natasha asked as she opened the file and looked at the pictures again.

“To kill me.” Bucky answered as he lowers his head on the table, gritting his teeth. He knows that eventually this is going to happen, that HYDRA’s going to track him down and end him once and for all, for betraying them. But he’s mad at himself for not realizing it sooner.

“How do you know that, Buck? Maybe it’s for another reason.” Steve said, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulders but he gently brushed it away. “It’s HYDRA, Steve. There’s no other reason. They have probably been planning this since the day I escaped.”

Bucky rested his head on his chair, closed his eyes and massaged his temples. All he wanted was one day off work, sleep on his comfy bed, maybe even watch his favorite movie while eating plums but apparently the universe have some other plans for him.

“Okay, so we go march into HYDRA’s headquarters, take them down for the millionth time, capture the mysterious woman who had been hacking into SHIELD’s files and head back home in time for dinner. Great.” Clint said as he loads his bow with different types of arrows. “Let’s go then. Pepper’s cooking tonight and we wouldn’t wanna miss it.” Tony agrees and clicks on different things on his phone, probably making sure his suit is ready.

Before the rest of the team could make their exit, Bucky shook his head and said, “No, stop.” Everyone turned to look at him, and he sighed.

“I should be going on this mission. Alone.” He stood up and puts his hands inside his pocket. He’s nervous and afraid of what’s gonna happen, but he knew that this is the only way.

“Not happening, soldier. We are not leaving you alone.” Natasha said, loading her guns.

“Natasha’s right. You’re not going solo on this mission so you could take credit for it when you succeed.” Sam said and Natasha immediately glared at him and he looked down. “Or, you know, you might die or something.”

“I’m the one they want. And besides, if I take you with me, there’s lesser chance that this is gonna go smooth. No offense, but you’re all pretty reckless.” Bucky shrugged and Tony cleared his throat. “Offense taken.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and Fury started talking again. “Barnes has a point. This might get too messy if all of you come to this mission. He just needs to delete the files HYDRA has taken, capture the woman and bring her back to headquarters. It doesn’t have to become a bloodbath.”

“It’s HYDRA we are talking about, Fury. There will always be bloodbath when it comes to them.” Steve turns to Bucky and before he could talk again, Bucky cut him off. “It’s fine, Steve. I can handle myself.”

He knew deep down that was a lie. He can’t admit it to the team but he’s scared. He’s still traumatized after over seventy years of being tortured and brainwashed. He wishes he could just completely get over it, but everytime he closes his eyes, he sees them frying his brains out over and over again. Maybe doing this mission will finally end all the nightmares. Just maybe, he could sleep well at night without screaming and being woken up by Steve.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this alone.” Bruce said from the back of the room.

Bucky nods. “I do have to do this alone. This is my fight.”

Fury looks down on his phone for a second then looks back up. “Agent Hill just texted me the location of HYDRA’s new headquarters, and it’s in Russia. You’re going in alone but i’m giving you this red button so you can click on it if you’ll ever need backup.” Fury throws Bucky a button that looks like a car alarm, and he puts it inside his pocket. “Once you click on it, it’ll trigger a silent alarm in our systems and i’ll be sending the team on your way.”

“Get ready, Barnes. You’re leaving in less than two hours.”

———

You were getting ready to fly off to New York to finally put Bucky Barnes to rest when you get a phone call from Adam.

“What? I’m really busy right now.” You said as you struggle zipping your bodysuit up with only one hand.

“Right. I know, I know, this is a big moment. Killing the Winter Soldier and stuff,” Adam said on the other line, and he seemed like he’s struggling to catch his breath. “So, um, we have a little bit of a problem, I kinda ran into him like five seconds ago.”

You stopped for a second, trying to understand what Adam just said. “What do you mean you ‘ran into him’? Stop playing pranks on me, I will literally snap your neck.”

“I really wished I am playing a prank on you right now ‘cause this is a good one. But no, i’m not. He’s in the building and he just stabbed two HYDRA agents.”

You took a deep breath, trying to process everything. How did Bucky find HYDRA’s headquarters? And what is he doing here? He wouldn’t know about the plan, would he? There are so many questions going on through your mind right now and so little time.

“Okay, okay. Where are you right now?” You asked as you zip your boots up and load your gun. “Don’t worry about me, i’m good. Just go to the surveillance room so you can see where he’s heading.” Adam answered.

You thanked him and went on your way to the surveillance room. When you got there, there was no guard so you sat on the chair and tried to find Bucky.

“Okay. Where are you?” You clicked on a few things on the computer so you can see from every surveillance camera around the building. Unfortunately, half of them is already down. Bucky was fast and quiet.

You looked at the last two surveillance cameras that are working, and you see him walking to your way. Once he saw the camera, he shot it.

You smiled and twirled your favorite weapon, your batons or staves, in your hands and slipped your gun on your belt. “Got you.”

———

Bucky was on a roll. He already took down a dozen of HYDRA agents after only a few minutes of being on a building without getting caught. Maybe this is gonna be an easy job after all, he thought.

He was going around the floors, checking every room and shooting every surveillance camera he sees.

It was going smooth, until a couple of guards saw him and tried to call for backup, but he quickly ran and stabbed all of them. He turns around and there was about 10 agents in every corner, surrounding him. He looks down and saw one of the guards he stabbed holding a silent alarm.

“Dammit, I did not think this through.” He whispers to himself, preparing his gun to shoot every single one of them.

The HYDRA agents attacked and he thought it was going great until one of them got him from the back and he was suddenly outnumbered. They kicked and punched him and dragged him to a room that what seemed like a laboratory. He immediately got hit by multiple flashbacks from when he was tortured and experimented.

The HYDRA agents tied Bucky to a chair and gave him a few more punches and kicks until one of them finally talked. “Alright, punk. Game’s over. You’re dead meat now.”

Bucky scoffed, he’s used to people threatening him, he’s just gonna play along. He leaned closer to the guy and spit blood on the floor. “Once I get out of this chair, i’m slicing your throat first.”

“Try slicing my throat when you’re a corpse.” The agent took out his gun and pointed it on his head. He was so close on pulling the trigger and Bucky just closed his eyes, waiting for it to happen, until someone yelled from the back.

“Hold up!” Everyone immediately got quiet and Bucky opened his eyes. The agents opened gave the woman a way and she walked closer to him.

Bucky first noticed her eyes, because the rest of her face was covered in a mask. She was the same woman from the photos. He quickly and subtley pulled out his pocket knife to cut the rope...

Until the woman takes off her mask.

He was startled that he almost dropped his knife. He slowly put it back on his pocket and studied the woman’s face.

Beautiful was an understatement. Your eyes were far more captivating than in the pictures, Bucky thought. And you had that mysterious but deadly look on your face that he immediately loved.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, Barnes.” You said, making your way to him as each your batons rest in your hands.

After a few seconds of intensely staring at you, Bucky finally found his voice. “You’re the one who wants to kill me?” You chuckled because his question. “I don’t just want to kill you. I need to. You’re my mission. And I didn’t even break a sweat. You willingly came into my property.”

“You’re my mission too.” Bucky answered, his voice shaking. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous around you, but he hoped that you wouldn’t notice it.

He thinks you’re the most perfect woman in the world, except for the fact that you’re trying to kill him.

“I’m your mission? Well, i’m not the one tied into a chair.” You smirked and circled around him. His eyes follow your every move, anticipating what you are about to do.

Bucky pulled out a red button out of his pocket, and his keys made a noise so you noticed it. You immediately snatched it from him and studied it.

“What is this? A silent alarm to trigger your teammates?” You laughed and threw the button on the ground, smashing it with your feet. “Good luck with that.”

He pats his other pocket, and as he suspected, the real button is still in there. You smashed the button for his car. He smirked. “You got me. I just want to remind you, i’m not easy to kill.”

You leaned closer to him, your face only a few inches from him. He thought you smelled like vanilla with a hint of death. He was sweating, but not because he’s about to die. He just realized he has a crush on his killer.

“Oh, you’ve made this way easier for me now, soldier.” He saw you raise one of your batons, and just like that, everything went black for him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I don’t know if I should make this a series, but reblog and leave a comment on what you think!

Here’s part 2 as requested! Enjoy x

#avengers #captain america #iron man #black widow #steve rogers #tony stark #infinity war #mcu #thor #hulk #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #natasha romanoff #clint barton #hawkeye #marvel #bruce banner #SHIELD #HYDRA #bucky barnes x reader #imagines #marvel imagines #doctor strange #guardians of the galaxy #spider man #peter parker #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagines #chris evans #robert downey jr

[megsblackfirewrites]

Two For The Road: Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Jesse pulled into the underground parking lot that Vanessa had sent him coordinates for. The building it was attached to would have been impossible for a younger him to ever get access to; sometimes he was still surprised by how far his family had come. He pulled into a spot next to a posh sports car, whistling slowly as he looked the beautiful blue vehicle over. He wanted to know who owned that car and how much he had to pay them for a ride.

Hanzo dismounted before him and pulled her helmet off, pushing her hair out of her face. It was slicked back with sweat and she was quick to wipe it away as if nothing had happened. Vanessa was leaning against a van a short distance from them, watching them with a smirk on her face.

“Howdy,” she greeted as she headed towards them. “Have a nice trip?”

“Wonderful,” Jesse replied as he hugged her close. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s screwin’ around in one of Tom’s safehouses,” she said as she motioned for them to follow her. “Don’t ask why he has old Blackwatch ones scattered around the city under his control. I try not to think about it too much. Business tycoon and all that.”

Jesse frowned and nodded. Tom had never been part of Blackwatch; why would he keep the L.A safehouses under his thumb? It was a little unsettling. Tom just wasn’t a manipulating type or even that much of a stealthy man. Why would he want them?

Vanessa opened the elevator and they stepped inside. She pushed a key into the floor selection screen and turned it, accessing the topmost numbers that were unlit until the key was inserted. She pressed the topmost button and removed the key. The elevator doors slide closed and it headed upwards. Vanessa leaned against the wall and pushed her hat back on her head, sighing heavily.

“Sorry to interrupt yer trip,” she said. “But this has got Tom on edge. He can explain more once we’re in his office, but no one should have been able to get into those safehouses. No one but other Blackwatch agents and there ain’t any in the area.”

“Maybe someone slipped in?” Hanzo offered.

Vanessa smiled sadly at her. “You don’t know our bother, Hanzo,” she said. “You’ll see.”

The elevator opened at the executive suite and Vanessa swept out into the hallway. She pushed the double doors at the end of the hall open and walked in. Jesse let out a low whistle at the tables full of mechanical do-dads in various stages of completion. Hanzo looked just as amazed, staring around her as they headed for the man pouring over a set of schematics.

“Tom,” Vanessa called. “Jesse’s here.”

“I know,” Tom said as he lifted his head. “I heard him.”

Jesse didn’t have time to warn Hanzo before she flinched backwards in alarm. He had warned her about Tom’s unwanted and irremovable modifications, but there was no preparing yourself for the full reveal. The mechanical pieces in the remains of Tom’s left eye whirled and clicked softly as they adjusted to the change in focus. Tom’s regular brown eye softened as he ran a hand up into his buzzed hair; when had he decided that he liked his hair short? He’d always had a ponytail for as long as Jesse had known him.

“Sorry, was workin’,” he said as he pulled his eyepatch down over his augmented eye. “Thomas McCree, CEO and Lead Tech Manager of WesTech. Pleasure to meet ya.”

“Hanzo Shimada,” Hanzo recovered quickly and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Thomas.”

“Just call me Tom,” he smiled as he shook her hand. “Yer family. Family doesn’t call me by my full name unless I’m in trouble.”

Hanzo smiled before she motioned towards his workbench. “What are the schematics for?” she asked.

“UN requested an update to their Petras Units,” he rolled his eyes and tapped the blueprint, bringing it up for them to see. “They want a new cog put in to facilitate the transformations easier. Apparently, the first one doesn’t work that good even though I told them to replace the part every sixteen months to keep it from losing its edge.”

“You designed the Petras Units?” Hanzo demanded.

“I assisted in their design; most of my input was thrown out,” Tom said. “Probably for the best considering the damn things are too good at their job.”

“I am torn between wanting to kiss you and wanting to punch you,” Hanzo said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Had a run in with the bots?” Tom smiled sadly.

“I did, but one of them is also the most precious thing in my life,” she said. “My Pet wouldn’t exist without you.”

Tom stared at her for a long time before he shook his head. “Small world,” he chuckled. “But, down to business so you two can get back to your vacation, right?”

Jesse stepped up to the workbench as Tom started typing at the console. A sprawling map of L.A appeared above the workbench before red dots appeared all over the map. Tom slipped something onto his hands and reached up to play with the images. He zoomed in on the city, spinning the streets around as he narrowed down what he wanted to show them.

“There,” he said as he brought up a blue-lined image of an old stone house. “It’s been a safe haven for lots of people hiding from the Petras Act. No one moves in or out of it without my knowledge. I have sensors all over the place, just in case I have to…well, I’m sure you know that Blackwatch was full of moles.”

Jesse and Hanzo nodded. Oh, they knew. They knew better than most. Sometimes he wished he hadn’t been so intimately involved.

“Well,” Tom shook his head, “I took it upon myself to monitor who’s comin’ and goin’. I have a contact, someone lookin’ to…eradicate those that would have tried to kill the people that matter to me. But, the thing is, I lost contact with that individual a few weeks ago shortly after they went on a raid of a local gang down in Mexico. They’ve been here a few times and I know their signature. The signatures in that house…they don’t make any sense.”

“How so?” Jesse asked as he narrowed his eyes and studied the picture.

He must have stopped in at this safehouse a few times during his time in Blackwatch. It looked familiar, but, then again, it looked like every other ramshackle hovel that Gabriel had collected over the years. She had liked buying places that looked like they should have been condemned and turning them into state-of-the-art home away from homes. Hell, this one could have had a whole armory under the stairs and you wouldn’t be able to tell from the outside.

“Well, the signature is like my contact’s,” Tom said. “But…it’s split in two and warped.”

“Split in two?” Hanzo lifted an eyebrow.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense,” Tom sighed and rubbed his face. “Trust me, I didn’t believe what I saw either but there’s no other way to explain it. Here.” He brought up a recording and pointed to the various bits of data on the screen. “This is my contact’s usual biorhythms. Slow heartrate, low body temperature output, normal respiration, and a higher than usual carbon component. Now, look at the signatures that were picked up the other day.”

Jesse frowned as two biorhythms appeared on the screen below the first one. What Tom had said made sense now; it was like the first biorhythm had been split in half. The upper half of the numbers matched the first one, but the lower half matched the other signature. Strange.

“Weird,” Hanzo frowned. “What do you want us to do?”

“We’ll go in together and find out what the hell is going on,” Tom said. “I want Jesse’s gunarm watching my back, but yer dragons might be the edge we need to get the upper hand.”

Jesse and Hanzo shared a look and Hanzo nodded. She was okay with this decision. So long as she was okay with it, so was he. Kita and Minami were her dragons and she had the final say in anything that happened.

“When do we head out?” Jesse asked.

“Dusk,” Tom said. “I have some food set aside for us.”

“I don’t say no to free food,” Jesse grinned.

“Don’t I know it,” Vanessa teased as she walked over to ruffle his hair. “Come on. Lunchroom’s this way.”

Hanzo followed Tom down the road towards the safehouse. Vanessa was up on the roof across from the building, her rifle trained on the windows for any sign of movement. Jesse was half a step behind her, his gun already up and ready. Her bow was heavy on her back, but she was reluctant to use it out in the open like this. Her only targets would be civilians and she was not taking the risk of harming the innocent.

Tom made a quick motion with his hands and Jesse slipped past them to brace his back against the right side of the door. Hanzo slipped her bow off of her shoulders and slipped her arm free of her shirt, tying the sleeve around her waist to keep it out of the way. She nocked an arrow and waited for Vanessa’s signal.

“All clear; good luck,” she said. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Tom nodded and stepped up to the door. He slipped a key into the lock and opened the door, pushing it inwards. It creaked loudly and Tom ducked down into the dark hallway. He shifted his eyepatch to the side and his augmented eye swept over the hallway, analysing everything as they made their way forward. Hanzo had no idea how many things his eye could do, but the list was starting to get long. She was both impressed and unsettled.

Tom held up a hand and made a quick signal. Their target was just up ahead. Hanzo nodded and slipped her current arrow free of the string and fit a sonar arrow on instead. She fired down the hallway and it sank into the wall, emitting a high pitched signal that Tom’s eye could pick up and paint lifeforms with. He reached up towards his eye and pressed his first two fingers and thumb together. He exhaled and pulled an image from within his augmented eye. He flicked his fingers outwards, slapping the image soundlessly onto the wall.

There were two figures outlined in red on the other side of the wall. They were both bent over something on the table, slowly moving and pointing to different things on the surface. A map? One figure was dressed in a long coat and seemed to be putting all of their weight on their left foot. The other was wearing a large jacket and had their head cradled in his fingers.

Hanzo glanced at Tom before she crept forward. She kept an eye on the images before she slipped into the room. She nocked another arrow and slowly got herself into position. She rose to her full height and pointed the arrow between the intruders.

“Turn around slowly,” she ordered. “And we won’t make this painful for you.”

Both figures tensed before they turned slowly. Hanzo glared at the two of them, wondering why their stances looked so familiar. She whistled and the McCree brothers stepped into the room. The figure in black let out a soft snort and folded their arms over their chest, setting their weight back on their heels. A dark chuckle emitted from behind their bone-white mask.

“Well, isn’t this a welcoming committee?” they asked.

Their voice was distorted, but something about the cadence was familiar. Hanzo looked at Jesse, wondering if he was feeling the same unease that she was. His brown eyes narrowed and he shifted, resting a hand on one of his flashbangs.

The second figure shifted slightly, nudging their heel against the pulse rifle leaning against the table. The teeth-like design on their facemask was a little unsettling, but it was their white hair that kept drawing Hanzo’s attention. The white and gray outfit was tickling at the edges of her memory, telling her that she should know these people.

“We aren’t looking for trouble, not yet,” the second figure growled.

“No one walks into my safehouses without my permission,” Tom growled as he kept his guns trained on both figures.

“Your safehouses?” the first figure laughed. “You don’t look like Blackwatch to me, pup.”

“I keep the safehouses runnin’, therefore, they’re mine,” Tom said.

“Ooh, how sweet of you,” the figure sneered.

The second figure reached out and smacked the other’s elbow, shaking his head. Hanzo felt Minami crawl under her flesh and flexed the fingers on her hand. This was making her uneasy and she didn’t like it. Part of her felt like she was staring at ghosts, but they looked very solid to her.

“Now, I’m going to ask for names and then we’re going to go to my office and get you registered if you want to stay here in the future,” Tom said.

“Reaper,” the second figure growled as they pointed to the black-clad figure. “Soldier: 76.”

“Oh,” Tom blinked and squinted at Reaper. “Well, nice to finally meet you in the flesh, Reaper.”

76? That number sent a jolt down her spine. How many times had she seen that number stitched into Jack Morrison’s jacket? How many times had she pulled it over her shoulders to keep the worst of the cold Nepalese mountain air at bay? But it couldn’t be; it had to be a coincidence.

When had anything concerning Overwatch been a coincidence?

Hanzo straightened up and narrowed her eyes. “Soldier: 76,” she growled, drawing the man’s attention. She glared into the man’s eyes through his visor, clenching a hand into a fist as she stormed forward. “You son of a bitch.”

She punched the man across the face, knocking him back into the table. Reaper started laughing, doubling over and holding their stomach. Soldier: 76 groaned in pain, reaching up to rub at his jaw. She heard Jesse protesting behind her as she grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket.

“I seem to be blessed with brothers that escape the jaws of death,” she snapped before she dragged the man into a tight hug. “I could kill you for this, Jack Morrison. Do you know how much I missed you?”

“Judging by the face that I’m going to have a decent sized bruise on my face, I’d say a lot,” Jack replied as he returned the hug. “There’s a lot to answer; why don’t we settle down and talk?”

“We can talk after I kick yer ass,” Jesse snarled as he took a step forward.

Reaper grabbed Jesse by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him away, throwing him on the couch and planting their boot in the middle of his chest. He grunted and tried to wiggle away, but Reaper just growled at him.

“Oh, stop your belly-aching, pup,” Reaper huffed before the mask and cowl faded away in wisps of smoke.

Jesse stared up at the figure before he let out a soft whimper. “Gabe?” he whispered. “What…happened?”

“Long story,” Gabriel’s voice said. “Like Jack said, settle down and we’ll talk.”

Hanzo dug her hands into Jack’s jacket and held on tightly as her knees gave out. Jack and Gabriel were both alive. Zenyatta had been right. The commanders were still alive!

But not for much longer if they didn’t have a damn good reason to not get in contact with them!  

#genderbending #Lady!Hanzo Shimada #Lady!Gabriel Reyes #minor body horror

[kind-red-ghosts]

As Many Burgers as You'd Like

Attack on Titan. Springles (Sasha/Connie). Fluff. Humour. College AU. 1626 words.

You can also read it here.

Summary: Connie and Sasha have college exams to study for and plan an all night study session, but who are they kidding? Of course they spend most of it playing video games and goofing off. They make a bet, and the loser has to buy the winner as many burgers as they want. A winner is about to emerge when Bertolt leaves a not-so-nice surprise for them.

As Many Burgers as You'd Like

Energy drinks with their tabs pulled off and half opened textbooks littered the coffee table and the living room floor. A day old pizza box holding the last half-eaten slice was shoved to the side of the couch. This scene was the only evidence left of Sasha and Connie’s short lived all-night study session. Currently, they sat side by side on a couch leaning forward, shoulders pressed up against one another, eyes glued to a screen where they were duking it out in a tournament style video game.

They had spent the better part of the morning controlling different characters and were finally on their final round. They were both left with their best fighters. Connie’s favourite character excelled in agility and quick attacks, whereas Sasha preferred fighters that used ranged and delayed attacks.

“Hey Connie, what about a bet?” Sasha tugged at the pull string of her hoodie. It was several sizes too big and that’s what she loved about it. Connie was wearing a graphic tee and sweat pants.

“What?” Connie stuck his tongue out in concentration.

“Loser buys as many burger as the winner wants at Titan’s Burgers.”

Connie’s eyebrow arched. “As much as they want?”

Sasha nodded zealously, eyes almost glazing over as she thought about it. “Even if it’s a month’s worth of rent!” Sasha pressed a button in rapid succession, bombarding Connie’s character with attacks. “BURGERS!!!”

Connie countered with a successfully executed combo, knocking her character to the ground. “You don’t know what you’re in for Blouse,” Connie huffed. “I’m going to make you buy me so much you won’t be able to afford rent and get evicted.” Sasha’s character’s health bar was pushed into the red. A mini animation flashed across screen. “Looks like you’ll be crashing here!”

“Who will be crashing here?” Reiner and Bertolt walked into the living room. Backpacks slung over their shoulders.

“Sasha made a bet-”

“It’s not over yet!” Sasha screamed, guiding her character to crack open a piñata of sorts releasing an assortment of food, which served as the healing items of the game. “FOOD NEVER FAILS ME! Take that Shorty!”

“YOU’VE GOT TO ME KIDDING ME!” Connie groaned –loudly – to the ceiling.

“Karma is a dish best served cold!”

Reiner shook his head. “I think you’ve gotten two different sayings mixed up there, Potato Girl.”

“That was one time Reiner!” Sasha said through gritted teeth, hands squeezing the controller.

Bertolt had apparently slipped his bag to the floor and was gathering empty cans in his arms. Reiner flicked him. “Don’t clean up after them! They’ll never learn.” Bertolt left the mess and straightened.

Reiner crossed his arms and turned to Connie, “anyway, she can stay here as long as she stays away from my side of the fridge!”

Sasha paused the game –

“Hey!” Connie exclaimed.

–and spun to face Reiner. She locked him in her glare.

Reiner held his hands up in defense. “I swear I lose weight after you visit because all the food mysteriously disappears. I woke to noises one night and found you passed out with your head in the fridge.”

Bertolt rested a hand on Reiner’s shoulder and Reiner automatically turned his ear. “I thought you said you thought that was a dream?” Bertolt asked.

Reiner shook his head. “I really don’t know,” he looked pointingly at Sasha who had stretched out her leg and managed to pinch the pizza box between her toes drag it towards herself. She peeled cheese off the lid and placed it on the last slice. She held it up to Reiner who declined. Sasha shrugged and then shoved it into her mouth.

“I’ve seen stranger things during the day,” he concluded.

Music from the game resumed.

“Not fair! Don’t unpause the game without telling me!” Connie shouted at her, eyes snapping back to the screen, his thumbs finding their hold on his controller again.

“Heading to school now, then working late,” Reiner called out as he walked towards the front door with Bertolt. “Don’t wait up.” Reiner winked.

Connie heard the wink in his voice and rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Ah! Sasha calm down with the booby traps – hey!!”

Reiner laughed, “oh you don’t have to be shy when all these people around, I know how you really feel.”

“Oh, just go and kiss your reflection, already.”

Bertolt snickered and they both left, the front door swinging closed behind them.

Connie and Sasha were concentrated on the game. Sasha trapped Connie’s character in blast and finally brought his health bar into the red. Their scores were evenly matched.

Connie cursed just as Sasha’s hand flew to her face.

“Who farted?” Connie pinched his nose.

Sasha coughed. “It’s like rotten eggs but, like, sweet.”

“No, no, no…more like someone was making a stew and mixed armpit sweat, dog piss, and garbage sludge!”

Sasha gagged at the description and started to get up from the couch.

“If you leave now you forfeit and I win!”

“Con-nie! I think it’s burning holes in my lungs!”

“If you’re not strong enough to endure the pain, then you aren’t worthy of being crowned the victor!”

“CONNIE THERE’S LITERALLY TEARS IN YOUR EYES.”

Connie scrunched up his nose, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Like I said.”

A smile tugged at her lips despite the toxins penetrating the room. “Fine,” she tucked a leg under her bum. “THIS IS FOR BURGERS!” She yelled and shot Connie’s character with arrows from behind. “And you’re completely clueless like usual, this smell is like being stuck on a hot and crowded bus between some guy who hasn’t showered and another who thought it was socially acceptable to eat a garlic and onion sandwich without brushing their teeth after.

Connie moaned, “you’re making it worse Sasha.”

Reiner dry heaved behind them. They both turned to see him grabbing his forgotten keys from the dish near the front door. “Bert, was that you?”

“Sorry!” Bertolt popped his head through the door.

Reiner waved the smell away from his nose, “You could to sell your farts to the government as a secret weapon!” He his voice in a jeering tone, “Bert’s farts are silent but deadly. I guess I won’t have to worry about my food getting stolen! Although, I’ll need post an ad for a new roommate! It was nice knowing you Connie.”

He walked through the door again and elbowed Bertolt in the stomach. “You’re just full of hot air, huh?” Bertolt frowned and his eyes darted from side to side.

“Leave the door-”

“-open so the smell-”

“-gets out!” Connie and Sasha’s pleads went ignored as the door clicked shut. Somehow the smell got worse.

“Did he fart again?” Connie exclaimed.

“We’re gunna die in here.” Sasha slouched, hoping that the end would come quickly. “Connie, I think this is goodbye.”

Connie pressed a hand against his forehead (before promptly returning it to the controller), “I never thought my life would end – at such a young age – by a haze of butt fumes.”

Sasha snorted and smashed the buttons, “why don’t you just stand still for a second, and then you won’t have to meet such a tragic fate.” She exhaled, “although that would be a funny caption on your headstone ‘Here lies one that met his demise because of Bertolt’s farts’.”

Connie shook his head, “he must have eaten gym sneakers.”

“More like bad sushi!”

They both burst out in a giggling fit. Connie choked and ducked his chin into his t-shirt trying to cover his nose without using his hands. Sasha dove into the couch cushions but she couldn’t properly use her controller in that position so buried her nose into Connie’s side, bunching up his shirt to cover her nose.

Connie lifted his arms up in surprise. “What are you doing?!”

“Wut’s it ook like?” The fabric of his shirt muffled her words.

“Then I’m using your hair,” Connie took a strand between his upper lip and nose so it looked like he had a huge moustache.

Sasha started laughing then coughed. “It burns!!! It hurts to laugh!”

Blades clashed on screen, sparks flew, and the music crescendoed.

“The smell! How is it still here?”

“I know!” Sasha pushed herself up and buried a nose in a couch pillow.

Connie took this chance to fall back into Sasha’s lap and bury his nose in her shirt.

“Hey that tickles!”

“Oh yeah!?” He poked fingers into her sides making her laugh harder – and in turn – cough harder.

“Uncle!” She shouted. “Please! It smells so bad I think I’m going to cry!”

However, onscreen she went in for the final blow which Connie’s character blocked and then countered. Their weapons caught, and there was an explosion as both players flew out of bounds.

The match ended in a tie.

“No way!”

“Stop!”

They looked at each other and laughed and gasped for clean oxygen. Connie nodded in the direction of outside and Sasha jumped up with Connie right behind. They burst out onto the lawn.

“FRESH AIR!!!”

Sasha tumbled to the grass and laid with her face to the sky.

“MY LUNGS DON’T FEEL LIKE THEY WANT TO MURDER ME ANYMORE!”

“I wouldn’t wish that smell on my worst enemies,” Connie said sucking up the clean air.

They both doubled over in laughter. Sasha rolled into a sitting position.

“Titan Burgers?” Connie asked a lop-sided grin plastered to his face.

“Definitely.”

Just as Connie reached for his pants pocket, Sasha touched the side of her bra.

“I left my wallet!”

“My bus pass is in my backpack which…”

Sasha and Connie locked eyes and then peeked at the house.

They held out a hand each.

“Rock Paper Scissors to decide who has to go back in there?”

A/N

So no matter which AU Bertolt is in, he is full of hot air...and it's deadly.

#springles #connie springer #conny springer #sasha blouse #sasha braus #attack on titan #AoT #shingeki no kyojin #snk #what is spelling??? #like every character has like 2 different spellings lol #my ff #I finally posted a Springles fic #it's about time lol

[elfstuck]

Troll Tech Support

John deploys "beloved daughter." I wasn't sure what that was (it's been a while), but apparently it's a salamander, who's been stuck in that card for months while I took a break from reading Poor baby. John decides she should hang out with sleeping Rose, because she is too sweet and innocent to be caught up in the dangerous quest he's about to embark upon.

John does note that "she" may not technically be accurate, given the ambiguous sex of salamanders. However, since John has the no functional attention span, he sets that topic aside to answer the troll who's pestering Rose's laptop. (The story text says the troll is pestering Rose, but since Rose is asleep and not near her laptop, that's not technically correct.)

John is typing madly (or at least, swiftly; wouldn't want to put an emotional label on this); Virgo-symbol Troll Girl Whose Name I Forget is typing substantially less enthusiastically, but her hands are also twitching on (presumably) her keyboard.

*click Show Pesterlog button*

Ah! Her initials are GA. She's... gallantAlchemy? No, that's not right. [something]Alembic is coming to mind, but I'm sure that's not right either. Whatever. I'll bug Chibipaw later for the details.

She says she is obligated to annoy some humans but she's bored of this game and she quits.

John says that her target is asleep.

GA speaks in initial caps and doesn't use punctuation. She accuses John of being sarcastic. Points out that sarcasm impedes real communication.

John, whose mastery of sarcasm is only matched by his mastery of razor-throwing - which is to say, we kinda all hope he never tries to use it because it's almost certain not to hit its target - attempts to claim to be Rose.

Even nonhuman troll who does not comprehend basic sarcasm can tell John is lying. Maybe can't tell that it's John, or even not-Rose, who is lying, but since John has been trained from infancy to be an obedient slave sucks at lying very, very badly, the troll is certain that Something Is Up.

John abandons his (direct) attempt to impersonate Rose, and insists that he and the troll should be friends on the grounds that you know it's gonna happen.

Troll posits that this might be correct.

John tells troll that John is awesome. Troll fails to note that the person in the pesterchat doesn't use the vocabulary or typing style or any of the actual details of any conversation they've had, and accepts that Rose (1) highly values John's opinion and (2) is basically in love with John.

Troll wants nothing to do with human courtship rituals. Also is annoyed at where the conversation is going.

“Fondling the short end of the antagonism stick” is definitely going into my long-term vocabulary. Not sure when I’ll find a use for it, but I’ll watch for openings.

OH! She's grimAuxiliatrix! (This is what I get for liveblogging as I read instead of skimming down the page first.) And it's good that I figured that out, because GA is Green Arrow in most of the chatlog fic that I read. Hrm. Her text is even green.

Are we sure she's not an AU variant of Oliver Queen or Connor Hawke? I mean, really sure? Does she use a bow? Ever?

Turns out, she is typing in a room with another troll - Libra-symbol troll who is maybe blind and has a walking stick. And two trolls I can't really see - large-bull-horn troll on the left, and crescent-topped-horn troll on the right. (I have seen cosplay of all of these but don't remember names.)

GA starts to troll twinArmageddons (TA). I'm not sure I've met TA, even as a name on a list somewhere. Interesting.

... No. I have not. TA doesn't use capitals (except for emphasis), doubles the i's in words, uses 2 for S, and two for to. Olive-greenish-yellow text. (One of those muddy yellow colors that we wind up using because actual yellow text doesn't show up on anyone's screens unless they've got a dark background, and then you can't see the black, blue, or dk purple texts.)

GA wants viewport help. TA gives basic instructions and then says don't bug me I'm busy.

Also, TA says we're all going to die. And oh! FIRST REFERENCE OF TENTABULGE! *happydance*

(There will not be vids of elf's happydance. But I stood up from my chair and everything.)

TA refuses to troll the humans directly, and also refuses to help GA set up the viewport. TA does not directly send a link to the XKCD Tech Support Cheet Sheet, but likely only because it hadn't been written when this part of Homestuck was originally posted. And instead of posting a link, I'll just put it here:

And no, I'm not adding in the caption. Go track it down yourself. It'll help you empathize with GA.

Next up is... RED OVAL AND BLUE OVAL CROPPED ON THE EDGES, WITH TRIANGLES ABOVE AND A CURVY LINE BETWEEN.

Which I recognize as a troll because I have attended many conventions in which kids with glasses with one red and one blue lens, sometimes with grey-ish facepaint, wander around with candy-corn horns of some sort. (I have forgotten which horns attach to the glasses, though; they're not as common as they were a few years ago.)

A hand reaches out with an F1 key, which apparently was missing from GA's computer, because trolls do not buy their computers from Best Buy nor Woot nor the Gateway store, and so sometimes their keyboards are apparently what we consider Srsly NonStandard.

Red-and-blue lens troll has short double horns on each side. Has Gemini symbol. I think we've met this one? Maybe? F1 key bonks them in the head.

GA hassles F1-key bicolored glasses troll. The frames on this flip through too quickly for me to catch with a screencap; had to go searching for a gif-split website; wow, it's been a while. I'm no longer using Google for most of my searches (not that I'm actually worried about my data being sold, but hey, the more people who use alternate search engines, the weaker The Goog will be when it finally morphs into a giant techno-beast and starts rampaging thorugh silicon valley), so the results were different. I find EZGif.com, which works nicely well.

Presumably, GA is going to make Gemini-symbol troll help her with the F1 key and setting up a viewport, which I suppose is likely to let her see who's on the other end of the pesterchat and notice that it's not Rose who's been singing John's praises.

And since the next screen is something with sound, I'm going to stop for now so I can enjoy the music when I pick things up later.

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #trolls #grimauxiliatrix #pesterlogs #elf meets trolls #act 4

[ciathyzareposts]

Ween : The Prophecy – Alchemy and Redcurrants

Written by Alfred n the Fettuc

Last time we left our friends WEEN, PETROY and the two stupid twins, we were on a beach near Volcano Island which seemed like the final step of our journey. For memory serves, the twins had been robbed of the haversack containing our inventory by “a gigantic monster with fangs”. Turns out the gigantic monster is here and it looks suspiciously like a peaceful owl. Talking to it gives you the classic “mafia talk” : I found your abandoned haversack, and I can give it to you in exchange for some valuables.

You should be more careful with your stuff, so many people can’t be trusted…

The twins admit that this was the monster that stole the haversack but it “has grown thin”. Tchh. Stupid twins.

Interestingly enough, the twins look up when talking to WEEN. The mystery of their actual size continues…

Finding some gold seems straightforward enough. I pick the strawberries on the bush and find the flute left in the sand. Calling URM and giving him the strawberries, “produces” (we’ll use the term produce now, it seems less risky) some gold and I can give the ransom to the owl. The owl doesn’t “return” the haversack as much as “transform into it”. Let’s not look too much into this as this is quite common in this weird world.

You mean the owl was the haversack from the start? That’s what I call a twist.

My precious stuff back, I explore the rest of the area. I pick up a net on the boat as well as an oar next to it. Trying to use the boat tells me that there is no mast, no floats nor rudder. Talking to the big spider on the right tells me it can make me a magic sail but it wants fish eggs for it.

This neighbourhood is full of animal bullies.

The ship carcass on the upper left of the screen is interesting but I can’t seem to do anything with it just by clicking on it. Shaking the coconut tree next to it gives me a lot of coconuts though. Putting them into the lobster cages next to the boat produces two perfect floats. I throw my net in the sea and catch a fish that I can cut open with my sword to get some fish eggs (eeeek). The spider gives me a magic sail in exchange and takes off. I can use my sword to cut the bamboo pole on the upper right corner of the screen and use that as a mast. With my newly found sail, this boat starts to look like something that might work!

Mc Givween strikes again.

Trying to use the oar as a rudder takes me a little bit of time because you have to specifically select the “notch” at the end of the boat and not the boat itself, but it eventually works. Now I just need some way of cutting into the ship carcass so I can get an arch for my floats. The sword doesn’t work but the hammer does! I put the arch on my own boat and attach the lobster cages and voila!

Bamboo pole and coconuts. Now that’s some eco-conscious boat!

Crossing to Volcano Island apparently takes two days and we’re getting close to it on the very day of the eclipse! While we’re getting ready to arrive, though, KRAAL’S minions strike again, and a swordfish pierces my boat! The boat starts to fill itself (with a worrisome real-time factor by the way) and I have to find a way to plug the leak.

This kinda remind me of LSL 2… Anyone has a spinach dip I could use?

So, the boat is gradually filling with water. I quickly find that I can empty it with the cauldron however. Just to see what would happen, I let the boat fill itself, but when it’s full, it stops rising and you’re just pulled into a close-up of the water. You then have to find the cauldron trick in order to come back to the full view and do something else. Despite the obviousness of this, the key doesn’t open the padlock. I can’t reach the bottle in the water with only my hands, but turning the cauldron into the pipe allows me to get it and get the cork. Inside the bottle, another note saying “Azeulisse loves Djel”. Another throwback to the Legend of Djel. With the key useless, I use my trusty hammer to destroy the padlock. In the hold I find some tar. Now is time to fix the boat! First clearing the remaining water, I have to act fast. Just putting the cork in the hole doesn’t work. I dip the cork in the tar and put it in the hole. Another strike with the hammer finishes the job and plug the leak (while destroying my precious tool in the process)! Nice puzzle by the way, with a touch or real time stress factor… Now we’re back on track and arrive to the shores of Volcano Island!

The famous PURPLE shores of Volcano Island.

The engraving on the rock shows once again “Djel and Azeulisse forever” which lets me think that they already passed through here (and also that their need for recognition might reveal the fact that their relationship was not as strong as it looks if they need to show the world their love every occasion they find, but maybe I’m not a romantic). The key from the boat opens the shack and I meet a one-eyed man in robes that asks for help.

What are you complaining about, old man? You have strawberries, what else would you need?

He tells me the ring will open the gate but he requires alms before allowing me to touch it. I give him the coin I’ve been lugging around for some time now but he tells me it’s not enough. I grab the shovel he has in the corner of his shack and call URM for some strawberries banquet. In exchange for it, URM gives me some more gold that I give to the man. He still asks for more.

A bit greedy ain’t we?

I exit the shack and start digging around in the sand with the shovel. I find a lot of hotspots and dig for a while. I find a diamond, some jewels, a sandal, and a parchment reading “I’m yours forever, Djel”. WEEN then expresses the exact same feeling I’m starting to have.

My thoughts exactly.

I keep digging and find an oyster (which I open with my sword to recover a pearl, as contained as exactly every oyster in every video game/film/book ever made). I also find some fish bones, a gold bar and an eye (which I hope is a glass eye but the game ain’t very clear on this). My shovel breaks down, which tells me I’ve found all the hotspots on the beach. I come back in the shack to give all my loot to the poor beggar.

Glass eye. Glass eye. Thank God.

He uses the fish bone as a comb and is very happy to retrieve his sandal. I give him as well the gold ingot, the jewel, the pearl, and the diamond. That’s one hungry beggar! Finally, he allows me to pull the ring to open the portcullis and disappears in a flash of magic energy. The ring opens the gate but it closes as soon as I approach it. I sense I’ve been tricked. Going back in the shack, I can use the sword to break the wall that was behind the beggar. At least I can go in, even if I’ve been exploited by this dirty lying wizard, I’m making some progress.

Nice garden you have behind your shack, old wizard.

A giant carnivorous plant stand guard in front of the only obvious exit and tells me that KRAAL has given it the power to rule this forest by imprisoning the nature fairy. So I guess every being can become megalomaniac if given the chance, including a daisy.

Nothing a mixture of flower, venom and elixir can’t deal with, I’m sure.

My first instinct is to use my sword on the plant but with every blow, she grows another head. I’m sensing that it’s not really the best way to go.

Or I can do that a few more times and maybe the weight of the heads will make it topple.

Clicking on the holes in the ground makes another Orivor appear. URM nicely reminds me that it can help me if I give it gold, but thanks to the beggar, I’m completely broke. Time to find some more strawberries I suppose. Using my sword on the branch on the left gives me a bow-looking piece of wood, and using it on the branches on the right gives me some bare arrows. There is a walnut in the tree that’s supposed to contain the Nature Fairy according to the plant but I can’t reach it. Considering the puzzle with the Orivor looks like the last one on the bridge over the lake, I plug one of the holes with my cauldron and click on the other hole. Sure enough, to escape me, the Orivor digs another hole and reveals a pendulum.

I guess that I’ll need the pendulum to search the screen and discover something hidden, I realise something : What I thought was lazy puzzle design (reusing the same solutions for the same puzzles, like the cauldron to plug a hole) is in fact a way of teaching you how to react in front of different versions of the same puzzle. The digitalis for the rat in the very beginning, for example, gives you a clue needed to defeat the ant queen with a variant of the same puzzle. This is not on par with The Witness or anything like that for example where this philosophy of game design is the whole idea (you could theoretically finish The Witness very quickly if you know what every symbol is for) but it can be considered the basic premise of this idea. If I hadn’t been stuck with the dowsing rod earlier, I wouldn’t think of searching the place with the pendulum. That’s actually pretty good puzzle design in my book. I’m not saying it’s the first game to do that of course. Every adventure game that reuses some variant of a puzzle in one way or another can be considered teaching you, and I think it’s inherent to the genre, but it’s a pretty nice thing when done right.

But enough rambling for now, we have a plant to kill.

Crikey!

Sure enough, using the sword on where the pendulum’s swinging, I discover a bar of gold in a bush. I give it to the Orivor and it gives me a rope in exchange (geez, gold has a real low exchange value in this universe). I use it to make a bow and fire an arrow at the plant… who eats the arrow and doesn’t care. Trying to aim at the walnut, I miss it and disturbs the red bird from before who… gets eaten by the plant in an explosion of feathers…

Sorry buddy…

I figure the feathers will be used to stabilize the arrows in order to be able to hit the walnut (as opposed to trying again and again which is the way we’d be doing if we were trapped in real life on a volcano island facing a man-eating plant and trying to hit a walnut with an arrow to release the Nature Fairy. At least, that’s what I did when it last happened to me), but I can’t get to the feathers without having the plant snap at me. I spend waaaay too much time figuring out how to get the feathers. Needless to say I tried firing arrows all around the screen and use the pendulum wherever I could, but I just needed to turn the sword into a pipe and use it to get the feathers. Don’t know why it didn’t occur to me earlier considering I’m using this bloody pipe half the time to grab things from afar. I’m guessing I’m not learning as fast as the game supposes me to.

The plant obviously mocking me is not helpful.

I use one of my more-accurate arrow to hit the walnut. I now have to turn back the pipe into the ball then turn the ball into the sword (grrrr) in order to open said walnut and release the Nature Fairy.

The fact that she looks like Sadako from the Ring movies isn’t frightening at all.

The Nature Fairy then proceeds to kick the plant’s metaphorical butt by turning it back into a daisy and let me into the cave behind it. Thanks, scary little fairy girl!

Another day, another strawberry.

I start this new cave by grabbing the strawberries and calling URM. He gives me some gold (in the form of an ingot this time, maybe he has tummy issues with all the strawberries he’s eating). I get a feather from the ground and use it on the apparently empty chest in order to make two vials appear, venom and pollen as predicted. I also spot a worm and some mushrooms, but this worm seems to have an indigestion and doesn’t want to eat the mushrooms. Using the cauldron to get some spring water and trying to make the mushrooms grow doesn’t work either. There is also a cane and a glass eye on the ground. Using the former on the latter makes the thief from before appear.

No problem, he seems trustworthy, this time…

Giving him the gold simply makes him disappear, laughing at my naivete. I have to find a way to make him keep to his word. I call him back by using the cane on the eye once again and try different things. The obvious violent options I have with my bow or my sword don’t work, but I spot some redcurrants in the lower left of the screen. Calling URM once again, I give him the redcurrants and ask him to use his magic on the old man.

Still a violent option… will do.

The old man says he gives up and opens the door to the left. How he does that while being turned to stone is anyone’s guess, but I think we’ll keep the “it’s magic!” explanation. Going through the door leads me to another area. Before I can explore further, the twins have another great idea…

Oh come on!

I think that by now, we can safely assume that the twins are double agents paid by KRAAL in order to slow down WEEN’s progress. Anyway, these allies have been much more annoying that any of the enemies I’ve met on my path. Now I have to find back the three grains of sand before continuing my quest. I’m guessing this will be a little more complicated than just clicking randomly on the ground trying to find them. In this new area, I see the borgol and a bird that have been turned to stone, as well as a bush hiding the mouth of a huge statue. Using the sword on it, I reveal a locked door. On the ground, I also see a silver coin that I can’t seem to take, as well as a quartz crystal. Using the pollen on it turns it into a flower of youth (which I guess was the same one as the one we used on the guardian a long time ago). I grab the pistil from the flower.

Maybe we can use it to cure the twins’ Alzheimer?

Now that I (think) I have explored the whole place, I know I have to whip a potion of sorts in order to progress, but I spend some time figuring what. Trying to use the venom on the quartz makes a snake appear but it doesn’t seem useful. I go back in the first room in order to try other things. Remembering the discussion we had in the comments following my second gameplay post, I know that a mix of pollen and venom can make things grow. I make this potion and use it on the two patches of grass in the cavern. One is useless and one produces camomile. I guess I have to use the camomile in order to cure the worm from its indigestion but it doesn’t work as is. I can mix some water with it in the cauldron, but with no way of making it brew, it’s of no effect on the worm. After a while of trial and error, I have a facepalm worthy revelation. Maybe the spring water is not enough to make the mushrooms grow, but the potion is especially done for things like that! I use the potion once again, this time on the mushrooms and tadaa! The mushrooms get huge!

Blocking the door in the process, but one step at a time…

While growing, the mushrooms have produced two truffles that I get. This might just be another ingredient for my potions workout. Sure enough, mixing the truffle and the pollen gives the Vitalys potion. According to PETROY, it gives life back to people turned to stone. Score! I know what to do with the two statues outside. Now, I just need to cure the worm for it to eat the mushrooms. Trying to use the Vitalys potion on the worm prompts me a close-up of him calling me a murderer, so I guess this potion is not to be used on the things that are not turned to stone.

Come on, little buddy, I’m sure it’s perfectly safe, like the digitalis.

Mixing the truffle with the venom, I find another recipe in the form of the Luciferys potion (cool name!). PETROY tells me it’s supposed to make certain precious stones light up. I’m pretty sure the worm won’t like it so I use it on the ruby instead. The stone catches fire!

Come on, worm, your turn to try it now.

Now that I have a hearth, I can mix a “potion” for the worm. I put water and camomile in the cauldron and put it over the fire. It works and brews some tea, which can be considered a potion of sorts (especially in the UK). I give it to the worm and his indigestion is cured! That’s one potent camomile!. I put it on the mushrooms for it to clear the way.

What a cute little fella, look at all these teeth.

With the mushrooms gone, I can now go back to the garden in order to try my new Vitalys potion on the Borgol and the big bird.

Thanks a lot for your help. I didn’t guess by myself at all that I needed to find the grains of sand again.

Using the potion on the big bird makes it fly away, freeing a lever that was hidden behind him. I pull it but nothing seems to happen. I guess it’s connected to the cave somehow, but before checking that, I spot a big ant that has appeared on a leaf in the upper right of the screen. Considering the Borgol told me about the king of the ants, I speak to it. The ant asks me to bring it a pistil of youth because “his people have become senile since KRAAL’s arrival”. Maybe it means that UKI and ORBI are secretly senile ants? The plot thickens. Anyway, I give it the pistil and, to thank me, it turns me into an ant so I can look for what I’ve lost. Yay!

Pixel hunting galore.

I find an axle in the herbs that was hiding a grain of sand and then I spend a lot more time locating the two others. At first I thought I was supposed to use an item or another (the sword to cut some grass for example), but it turns out I just needed to pixel hunt the grains of sand (yes, finding greyish grains of sand hidden in greyish leaves is so fun). Now that I know where they are, they obviously appear on the screenshot but it took me quite some time and thoroughness in my mouse swipes to find them. After picking up the three grains of sand, my normal size is restored and I’m free to get back to the main course of my adventure (until the twins’ next bright idea that is).

Going back to the cave, I discover that the lever has indeed modified something there. What was before a nondescript alcove in the back of the cave has now revealed a mechanism of sorts. I can use the axle I found in the grass to fix it and then pull another lever that gives me… a key! Yay! Going back in the garden, I open the door, hopefully to gain finally access to KRAAL’s lair! Aaaand… not yet.

The old trick of the double door…

Yes, behind the door is a silver grill that blocks my path once again. Silver? There is this silver coin that’s been bothering me for a while in the lower right corner of the garden. Maybe this is related. I’m guessing I need some potion once again. Maybe something to melt silver? Once again, it takes me a while to find what seems obvious in retrospect. I never tried putting three ingredients in the cauldron. In my defence, the whole potion mixing aspect is a bit tedious. Everytime you try to mix things, you lose the potion made if you use it on something you’re not supposed to do. If you want to try the Vitalys potion on everything on the screen, you have to mix it every time. It sure goes a long way to avoid relying too much on trial and error, but it looks a bit like the process of changing the copper ball on something else : the whole game might have gained from a refined way of going from one potion to an empty cauldron and vice-versa. Then again, I’m rambling a bit, but once you realise the base of a potion is always pollen or venom, it simplifies all the process a lot. So I mix pollen, venom and truffle in my cauldron, and end up with a potion aptly-named Change. Using it on the silver coin turns it into a worm. I brew some more and use it on the silver grill.

Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?

Dropping some venom on the newly-formed snakes turn them into a wall of rubies. I brew some Luciferys potion and it turns them into a wall of flames. I then go back to the cavern, fill my cauldron with water and splash it on the flames. Tadaaa! The door is finally opened!

Is it me or are the statues around here becoming more and more ominous?

And this is where we stop for now. We’re definitely getting close to KRAAL but we’re not there yet and the game is becoming more and more difficult, which is a good thing compared to the cakewalk it was in the beginning. Despite all the rambling about how more streamlined all of this could be, I’m really enjoying myself here. Join me next time as we (hopefully) finally put an end to KRAAL’s reign of terror!

Session time : 3 hour 30 minutes Total time : 7 hours Inventory : Copper ball, ring, tiara, necklace, bow, truffle, flute, pollen, venom, 3 grains of sand Companions : PETROY, URM (I don’t consider UKI and ORBI as companions anymore, they are dead to me)

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/ween-the-prophecy-alchemy-and-redcurrants/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

[worldofadvent]

NEO World of Advent Chapter Sixteen

NEO World of Advent Chapter 16

Cipher stared at the red and blue building of Anthem Broadcasting with no small degree of indecision. Did he step inside, tell her "No, I can't leave my Family behind?" Or, as a smaller but growing part of his brain said, "It's one test. It could prove nothing, and the money could more than pay for Charles' treatment." But if it did prove Neige's suspicions… Cipher shook his head angrily. It's not like it mattered right now; Charles was still in the hospital from his freak outburst of flu. The doctors hadn't actually said it was flu, but it was easier to call whatever it was the flu as opposed to the strange series of medical terms he had been given.

Cipher made his way to the general hospital, checking the diagnosis his friend had been given; 'Acute Adaptive Rhabdovirus' was a mouthful, but it might help him be directed to whichever ward they decided Charles was safest in now. They had switched him around three times now after Charles had actually bitten one of the hospital staff in a state of sickened frenzy. Cipher was told that he was better now, but the fact that Charles of all people bit someone was unnerving.

The general hospital was a tall white building that took up an entire block by itself. A giant red cross denoted its purpose as a means for sick people to get better, but the people in Cipher's district knew it by heart. The treatments there weren't anywhere near the quality royal citizens could receive at their more private clinics, but they did the job for much, much cheaper. A reploid wearing a nurse's uniform was busy answering people's questions.

"I'm sorry sirs," she told a large party, "But your friend is too sick to see visitors right now. I will let you know if anything has changed." The men grumbled, but gradually dispersed. Cipher stepped forward expectantly.

"I'm here to see Charles of Advent Family 024," Cipher said. "He should be in a ward with… let's see here, 'Acute Adaptive Rhabdovirus?'"

"Let me check," the woman said, clacking away at her computer. "Ah yes, Charles. He seems to be much better now; so long as he doesn't suffer another bite before his next rabies shot, he should be fine."

"Rabies?" Cipher scratched his head, confused. "What does that have to do with anything? And he's up to date on his shots, we all are."

"Apparently not," the female reploid said, clicking her tongue. "Otherwise he wouldn't be here in the first place. At any rate, whatever the doctors did worked. Your brother is free to go home now."

'Excellent." Cipher asked for directions and was given an interactive map he downloaded on his communicator. Following a series of arrows in relation to his position in the hospital, Cipher navigated the series of white hallways, coughing humanoids, and anxious visitors as he traveled to Charles' room. Outside, a family seemed to be beside a lupine reploid who had been given a muzzle. Strange, Cipher thought, but shrugged the manner off; he had come for Charles, not to wonder why reploids had been put in the same ward.

"Hey man," Cipher greeted his friend as he stepped inside. Charles' naturally dark skin was no longer as pale as it was before and he no longer had a bucket kept by his side in case he suddenly became violently sick again, which Cipher took as a good sign. "What're you reading?"

Charles put the book down, happy to see Cipher. "Not much," Charles said. "Just an action novel, nothing really good. It helps pass the time though," he added, looking at the clock. "It's so boring here. I actually miss working at the Shop."

"Wish granted. You're free to go now," Cipher said with a grin. "What bit you, by the way? The nurse told me you had rabies or something. I didn't even know Advents could get rabies."

"Nothing bit me!" Charles' hands flew up in the air as he expressed his frustration. "I kept telling them that, but no one believed me."

"Strange," Cipher mused. "Maybe it was Matt. You never know where he's been, and I wouldn't put it past him to take a chomp out of someone."

"Hah," Charles laughed darkly. "I haven't been near that room since the feathers incident. I told Kent he could get pelted with oil and smothered with pillows instead."

"Duly noted." Cipher held out a hand to help him from the stasis of his hospital bed. "Well, we've missed you. I've been going crazy trying to keep up with everything with you gone. Are you feeling better? You look better, but I need to be sure."

"I'm fine," Charles told him. "The guy next door has it much worse." His voice dropped down to where only Cipher could hear him. "I don't think the doctors expect him to make it."

Cipher gave the grieving family his condolences as they passed by the room with the muzzled reploid. The door was now closed, and the sounds of glass breaking could be heard from inside. The two of them sped up their pace until safely outside. "What do you think that was about," Cipher asked. "Reploids don't usually get that sick."

"It's not just them," Charles said. "I've seen a few humans come by as well, but it's mostly reploids, yeah. I think it has to do with Advents though," he said guiltily. "There was a news report on how we could be passing on diseases that reploids couldn't ordinarily get."

"Hopefully they're wrong," Cipher said. His mind was on first opponent in the tournament. "We don't need Senator Crux calling for an 'emergency quarantine' again."

Charles rolled his eyes. "There's no way anyone's going to listen to that lunatic. He's old news; nah, there might be a public advisory, but that'll be it."

Cipher nodded. "I hope you're right. Anyway, you can take it easy tomorrow. I'm not going to make you go back to work if you're not fully up to it."

"Nah," Charles said, stretching in the cool breeze. "It's fine. It's about time I start pulling my weight again," he laughed. "Sometimes I feel like you do more than half of us put together, Cy. I don't know how you do it. We'd be lost without you."

Cipher felt his muscles freeze up, feet locked in the direction of Neige's office. His heart beat quickly as Charles asked him what was wrong. "It's nothing," Cipher lied. "I'm just glad to have you back."

Cipher hailed an auto-cab which took them to the apartment complex that they made their home. Shirley was beside the pool, trying to keep the younger children from harassing one of the few residents not part of Cipher's rambunctious Family. "Hey Shelley," Cipher called out. "Look who's back!"

"About time you used my nickname," she called back to him. "And welcome back, Charles! You're late to the party."

Charles laughed as the three of them managed to corral the kids of the Family into the shallowest corner of the shallow end. "I take it the kids wanted to play in the pool again?"

"Yeah," Shirley said. "But we actually planned a party for when you came back. If someone let us know," she projected her voice toward Cipher, "Maybe we could have had it ready for you."

"I guess that makes me early to the party then," Charles said. "Let's get the kids settled first. I do want to see if there's cake though."

"Don't worry," Shirley said. "Joan baked you something the other day. She made us promise not to eat any on pain of death. You should probably let her know you're okay."

"I will," Charles said. "I'll give her a call tonight."

"I'll let her know," Cipher said. "She's usually busy shutting the Forge down at night, but if she's expecting a call, she'll make time for it."

"Gotcha." The three older teens made a pact with the younger kids to play one game with them before heading back upside.

"So," Shirley said. "What's it gonna be, kids?"

"We wanna play Mavericks and Hunters!" No split court there, Cipher thought with some amusement as they spoke up in unison. It was their favorite game to play.

"How am I not surprised?" Shirley smiled. "I'm going to count to ten, alright?"

"No," they said. "Let Cipher do it! It's been ages since he played with us."

"Not true," Cipher reminded them. "We played Marco Polo last night, remember?"

"That wasn't Mavericks and Hunters," Matt reminded Cipher. "Different game, so it doesn't count."

"Fine," Cipher said as he placed his communicator on a chair so it wouldn't get wet. "I don't mind getting wet. You remember the rules, right? I tap one of you on the head and you go to the other end of the pool. Try to swim across without getting tagged and the last one standing wins. Those tagged become mavericks themselves."

"We know the rules," Matt told him sarcastically. "It's not the first time we've done this."

"Just making sure. You can be the maverick," Cipher told him. "I think it suits you." Shirley turned a snort of laughter into a cough beside him. "Go!"

Matt turned the pool into a feeding frenzy. Fittingly enough, the kleptomaniac troublemaker made an excellent maverick and soon the pool was filled with like minded crazed machines in search of human prey. Matt was so efficient at his job that, by the end of the game, not one of them had managed to escape his grasp.

"Alright," Cipher said. "You had your one game," he reminded them. "It's time to go."

"It doesn't count if no one wins," Matt complained. "That's no fair!"

"Life isn't fair," Cipher said. "Not everyone gets to win." Matt grumbled, but gradually exited the pool in a parade of soggy minors as they were shepherded to their rooms.

"That went easier than I thought it would," Shirley said brightly. "Thanks, Cipher."

"No prob." Cipher held his absolutely drenched clothing at a distance. "I'm going to go dry off, okay? Go set up the party with the others, I'll be right out."

Shirley tossed him a towel from one of the racks nearby. "On it. Just so you know, if you take too long, we're eating the cake without you."

"There is no greater motivation than cake," Cipher said solemnly. "I'll be out soon enough."

Cipher pat down his pockets, realizing that he had left his key card in them when he was inside the pool. "Hey, I may have a problem," Cipher said. "I left my key in my jacket."

"Use mine." Charles tossed him their room key. "Yours'll work once it's dry again. Believe me," he said, "I know from experience." He and Shirley exchanged tales of what they had put in the pool that they shouldn't have as Cipher entered his room.

Inside, the room was as Cipher left it. The beds were made, everything was in complete order. Being two complete neat freaks, Cipher and Charles got along well. Still, something felt off, wrong somehow. Cipher wondered what it was as he stepped inside the shower, rinsing the chlorine from his hair. Everything was as it should be: Charles was back, the kids were headed to sleep, even the hospital bill hadn't been that expensive. So why did he feel like there was something out of place?

It was him, Cipher realized. He had changed. That small unbidden part of his brain that had always longed for a parent had snuck on him, caught him off guard. For years he had managed to keep it quiet it by telling himself that he was alone, an orphan. That he had no family. Neige changed all that when she gave him the option to take the test he had always been forbidden to take. Cipher looked into the mirror as he dried off.

"You can't be their son," Cipher said to the reflection. "And what does it matter, anyway? Even if they are looking for me... You have a Family. They're waiting for you now," he said aggravatedly, as if his imitation was keeping him there. "Just forget about the test. None of that matters anymore."

Cipher put on a fresh set of clothes, sighing raggedly. Was it really this hard to do the right thing? He opened the door. Charles stood outside, holding a small paper plate with chocolate cake held high upon it. His mouth was open.

"I got you some cake," Charles said at last. "The others said you were uh, taking too long."

"How much of that did you hear," Cipher asked.

"Enough, I think." Charles set down the plate on Cipher's bed. "Did I hear you right? Did someone find your family? Your real family, I guess that would make it," Charles said softly.

"Someone thinks they did, but it doesn't matter," Cipher reassured him. "I'm not taking it anyway. I'm needed here."

"You should take it." Somehow, those were the last words Cipher had expected to hear. "I know I would." Charles face burned a shameful red as he examined the floor.

"What?" Cipher's mind was in chaos. "You would?"

"Yeah," Charles said. "I'm an Umbrian, you know. I told you that already. My parents never met; Umera put their DNA in a test tube- you know the rest. I wasn't supposed to know that, but they let it slip. I always thought that maybe if they knew I existed they'd want me. When it was just the two of us, I always dreamed of someone offering me a test like that. I guess some part of me still does. I think you should take it, Cy." Charles wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Who are they? Your parents."

"Charles…" Cipher felt horrible. "You should have said something. I could have arranged for a test, under the table. Why didn't you?"

"My parents didn't want me," Charles said. "They probably don't even know I'm alive at all. But I figured you guys did. You knew I was alive and you actually gave a damn." Charles gave Cipher a watery smile. "I figured a few siblings who I knew cared were worth more than two parents who might. It sounds like your parents do care though," he said. "If they're still looking for you, you shouldn't deny them that. We'll still be here."

"I…" Cipher found himself wiping his face now. "Thank you," he said. "I won't forget you. Or Shirley. Or Brandon. Or Kent. Or even Matt," he said. "You guys are like family to me, you know that? For real."

"I know," Charles said. "That's why we would want you to go. You never said who they were," he said. "But you don't have to tell us if you don't want to."

"I doubt you'd believe me even if did say," Cipher said with a weak-hearted attempt at a laugh. "But I'll tell you guys later."

"Alright," Charles said. "They're probably wondering what we're doing. Let's go enjoy my party, shall we? And eat that cake. I'm pretty sure that was the last slice."

Cipher picked up the plate, feeling as though it were much heavier in his hands. He took a bite. "I've got to thank her," he said. "Joan, that is."

"Yeah," Charles said. "Me too. Maybe we can do it together. One last hurrah." The words were hollow as he said them, even if Cipher knew Charles hadn't intended them that way.

"Let's go see what the others are doing," Cipher said. "Tonight, we're a Family. We'll always be there for each other, even if things don't go as planned."

"I guess so." Charles gave a deep sigh. "Ready to face them? We can just say you hit your head in the shower."

"Ready as I'll ever be." Cipher stepped outside their door to the fanfare of confetti. Kent and Brandon showered them with string while Shirley recorded their shocked expressions. Cipher smiled, naturally this time. Even if that might change, they were still a Family for now. He might as well act like it.

Charles gave him a sideways glance, letting Cipher know he felt the same. The two put on smiles as they told a fabrication of how Cipher slipped on a bar of soap. Charles said it was his fault for leaving it there. The others bought it, too. The only thing they had a hard time believing was that two neat freaks were capable of leaving soap on the floor of the shower.

"This is the start of becoming a slob," Brandon said, arms draped around their shoulders. "It starts slow, with things like soap or forgetting to take out the trash. Soon enough, your room is filled with soda cans and candy wrappers."

"Urgh," Charles said. "No thanks. I'll let it be a one-time thing, if you don't mind."

"Suit yourself," Kent said. "We've embraced the slob life. Let us know if you ever need any expert advice."

"Believe me," Cipher said. "We know how messy you two are. Your room looks like a disaster zone; I don't think we need to take any tips from that."

They laughed, made fun of each other. Like brothers and sisters would, Cipher supposed. Like a real family would. He was dreading the end of the night because he knew what that meant for them. For this. But it had to be done. That small corner of his brain would no longer accept doing the right thing if doing the right thing meant saying goodbye to the best shot he'd ever had at real parents. When the last of the silly string was put away and the place was once again in order, Cipher cleared his throat.

"There's something I need to tell you guys," he said. "I may not be around for much longer."

"You're not dying are you?" Kent's eyebrows shot up, alarmed. "Please tell me that whatever Charles had didn't give you cancer or something."

"No, nothing like that" Cipher said quickly. "I met a woman who said she'd sponsor me for the tournament, Neige. She told me that she might know who my parents are. She says that they've been looking for me all this time." He braced himself for their reactions.

"Who?" Brandon said at last. "Who are they?"

"Zero," Cipher said slowly, aware of how ridiculous it sounded. "And Ciel. The erm, leaders of the Resistance."

There was a long silence in the wake of his words. Shirley laughed. It was higher pitched and strained, not like her usual mix of cackling and snorting. "Nice one Cy. You had us going there for a second."

"You're serious aren't you?" Brandon said it. "You look just like them."

"He is freakishly smart," Charles said thoughtfully. "And if he made it this far in the tournament, he's gotta have some skills right?"

"Woah." Kent shook his head as if trying to process it. "Your oversol's red, right? Like, woah."

"Come on guys," Shirley rounded on them. "It's a joke. Even if that reporter did tell you something like that," she told Cipher, "It was probably just to pull your leg. You got to compete in the tournament and she got a laugh out of it. Fair trade."

"Shirley," Charles said uncertainly, "You don't honestly believe that do you?"

"We need him Charles!" Shirley's back was to Cipher as she looked the others in the eye. "This Family barely functions with him. How do you expect us to get by if he's gone?!"

"It's his family Shirley," Brandon said. "Don't tell me you didn't want this too, at some point."

"It's illegal," Shirley reminded him. "And we're his family." Shirley shook her head slowly as they said nothing. "No, no, no. You can't honestly be okay with this."

"Come on Shirley," Kent said. "Be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable! It's you three that are being crazy. And you," she said, turning to face Cipher. "We're a team. We do this together. They made you the Head of this Family, you can't just abandon it."

"I'm not going to abandon it." Cipher's jaw was set as he said so. "I'll do everything in my power to keep in touch. This doesn't mean goodbye."

"Oh yeah?" Shirley clutched the handle to her door. "Goodbye. I hope you all come to your senses tomorrow. I'm not dealing with any more of this crap." She shut the door with a slam. One of the younger kids next door started crying.

"She'll come around," Charles told him. "You'll see." Cipher stood there as his second-in-command checked on the crying toddler in the next room over. "It's not goodbye forever, right? Just means you won't be around as much."

Cipher stared at Shirley's door, telling himself he was imagining the soft sounds of a sob coming through the cracks. Had he really made the right choice?

#megaman #megaman zero #mmz #capcom #long story #fanfic #fanfiction #ocs